Boundaries
by BloodAndDiamonds
Summary: William T. Spears didn't care about what had gone on between them in the Academy: They were boss and subordinate now, and boundaries had to be set. Of course, he'd forgotten that something so simple would not stop Grell Sutcliff from trying.
1. A New Meeting

**A/N**: Hey! I am _back _with the Sequel to **Problematic**! I'd like to thank everyone who initially reviewed that story; without you guys I'd likely have never finished it, and it feels good to know that I'm writing a _sequel _for something I didn't have much faith in at the start!  
>To all old readers; welcome back! To any new readers; this particular story is going to be in canon with the Kuroshitsuji main plot, <em>however <em>the prequel, Problematic, was an AU version of the Shinigami Academy. You may not understand the first few chapters of this if you don't read the last few chapters of Problematic at the least; however you might get away with it if you pick apart everything they say in this xD

A final note; I'm just about to start my Exam Season, where I'm sitting seven final exams. Up until the **23****rd**** June**, updates will be slower than they were for Problematic (Maybe one or two a week), but once all my exams are over on 23rd June I'll be nothing but a 16 year old with no school that needs attending and your updates will be much quicker!

Anywho, along to the very first chapter of the new story! It starts directly where the last one ended; 17th April, 1879.

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><p>William T Spears was very rarely surprised. A hundred years of being a fully qualified Shinigami made it so that he had seen almost everything the strange realm had to offer. Everything had started in his Academy days, when the days were full of a vibrant redhead that had grown close to him; too close for his liking. It had escalated into a fully blossomed relationship, making the matters of his personal feelings something William hadn't been able to keep on top of; it had made leaving the Academy one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. The redhead had left for the Greek branch, and he to the North England Branch. William had transferred to London soon enough and, despite the occasional thought of the redhead, had become so engrossed in his work and gaining his position as Head of Department that he had completely forgotten to keep in touch.<p>

Meeting Grell Sutcliff again had never been on his list of things to do. William had changed too much from his Academy days; letting anyone see more of him than the usual calm and uncaring mask he had perfected was out of the question.

Granted, that had been _before _he'd found himself in his current predicament.

Walking through the London building with Grell trailing quietly behind him was, to be frank, bizarre. After a hundred years of no contact, what was the first thing he was supposed to say to a man with whom he'd had the most intimate of relationships with?

"This is, obviously, your new department." Apparently, an apology wasn't it. Grell merely gave a 'hmm' as a response, eyes looking around the department and taking in the neat, orderly and almost cramped desks. Typewriters sat on each desk, and at the moment only one more desk was free without any owner.

It happened to be the one near Ronald Knox.

Knowing that he'd likely regret it by the end of the day, he led the redhead over to the empty desk, making the occupant of the adjacent desk look up with a lazy smile on his face.

"Knox, meet your new neighbour, Grell Sutcliff. I'll entrust you the task of taking over the tour of the building for me; I have too much of _your _unfinished paperwork to check through."

"What?" William's brow raised as the two Shinigami before him both protested, one with a dramatically upset look on his face and the other with a look of confusion.

"You both heard me quite well."

"You're not even going to guide little old me around a _building_?" Grell asked, arms crossing over his chest. Ronald took a glance sideways at him.

"No." William's tone signalled the end of the conversation, but Grell wouldn't give up.

"And that's how you greet old friends?" At that, Ronald's interest piqued.

"You two know each other?" The blond asked, eyes alight with curiosity. Grell scoffed.

"Oh I more than just _know _him." Grell's voice was suggestive, hand on hip as he gave the young blond a shark toothed grin. Before he could respond, however, William spoke again.

"That topic is not up for discussion. Knox, give him a tour of the building and your paperwork will be distributed among the other reapers." At those words, Ronald quickly stepped up, pulling his suit jacket off the back of his chair as he did so and shrugging it on.

"This way, Mr Grell!"

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><p>Under any other circumstances, William would be <em>highly <em>annoyed if the London Branch had sent the belongings of a transfer he wasn't familiar with to his home. As it were, it was simply awkward and very quiet to William as he unlocked the door to his home, with Grell Sutcliff babbling on behind him.

"I mean, he's okay, but he's so _quiet_!" William ignored the redhead's complaints about one of his workers, pushing through the doorway and pulling a box of matches from one of the shelves in the corridor. The sound of the match striking the wall filled the room before the flame lit up the dark area. Candles were lit, Grell looking around the house as discreetly as he could as William led the way down the hallway. Grell kept close to his heels, not allowing himself to be enveloped in the darkness that took over whenever William moved forwards with the candelabrum.

The hallway opened out at the end to a large kitchen, units against the back wall with a large dining table in the centre of the room. The house, having originally been fitted out for two Shinigami, had only been accommodating one for the past hundred years, and with that Shinigami being William, the entire kitchen was spotless. To the left of the units were double folding doors, which William opened silently as Grell looked through the kitchen. Even with the two of them inside the kitchen, the room seemed empty; Grell frowned at the thought of how many days the man must have spent alone in this house.

Following William through the folding doors, he was led into a very large living space, with two settees, a coffee table and two full bookcases. Most of the books had gathered dust, with only the ones on the top shelf of the bookcase looking like they'd been read recently. On opposite sides of the room were two more sets of folding doors, one with a key in the handle, and other with a key hanging on a hook next to the wall.

"The door to the left leads to your room. Your cases and belongings should be in there already. The bathroom is up the staircase next to the door to the home; you won't have seen it in the darkness, but you should find it." William spoke stiffly, handing the redhead the candelabrum. Their fingers brushed, a jolt of electricity passing through their skin. Grell gave a noise of surprise; William simply ignored it.

"Don't I get to spend the night in _your _room?" Grell asked, giving a giggle as he twirled his long hair around his finger. William raised an eyebrow.

"No." Then, a sigh. "This is, as you should know, your home from now on. I'm not sure why you transferred here, but know this; we _aren't _what we used to be -whatever it was- nor will we ever become that again." With that, William stepped back out of the light. His eyes didn't leave Grell's, sending a shiver down the latter's spine as he steadily held the candelabrum.

Grell heard William open the door on the right side of the room, and turning around he cautiously made his way through the living area, trying his hardest to make sure he didn't bump into the black settees that William had. He found the key to his room hanging on the hook next to the door, and he wondered if the room would be as dusty and dead as the bookcases.

The room, he found once he'd stepped through the door and lit the candles, was simply a standard bedroom. A double bed stood in the corner of the room, dark wooden flooring didn't make so much as a creak as he stepped on it, and several shelves and chests of drawers dotted around the room. And there, in the centre, were his cases and belongings.

Giving a harrumph of dissatisfaction, he sat down heavily on the bed and held his head in his hands. He wasn't really sure _why _he wanted to transfer to the London Branch; he'd merely been sick of Greece and the _horrible _things it did to his skin and hair. He'd wanted to go to the Northern England Branch, as that was where he'd know William had been sent from the Academy; granted, pure luck made it so that William was now his boss in the London Branch, but he wondered if it would simply have been better for the two to have not seen each other again. That way, he wouldn't have been stunned so suddenly and become so hopeful at seeing William again, only to have it all shot down when he'd realised just how _cold _his old friend –and love- had become.

Giving a tired laugh, he quickly looked up when his door opened slowly, the Shinigami who'd been on his mind walking through with a folded suit jacket in his arms.

"I have something for you." William spoke clearly as he stepped in, back ramrod straight as he regarded Grell. The redhead raised an eyebrow, arms crossing over his chest as he looked at the garment in William's arms.

"If this is the part where you tell me you've had a string of lovers after me, I'm not going to be impressed~" Grell grinned, although William didn't give any reaction other than a disapproving stare. "Oh fine then, but I hope you know I can see straight through this hard shell of yours; I can _see _the soft William hiding underneath!" Another stare was passed his way, before William cleared his throat and handed Grell the suit jacket.

"It's yours. I didn't have a chance to send it to you when I first arrived here, and I forgot about it until today." The lack of a proper time made Grell suspect that William hadn't completely forgotten about him in his time here; he knew the darker haired Shinigami could get so wrapped up in his work that he would come across as forgetful or ignorant. He also knew that that wasn't the case, it was merely William preferred to get everything done first so he wouldn't have to work any longer than necessary.

"Aw, you kept it! You do care!"

"Don't get any incorrect ideas. I simply did not have the time to send it back to you." William's tone was sharp, as though he were trying to get Grell to understand it without getting any dramatic ideas. Grell scoffed.

"Yes, yes, that's what you _say_, Will. You'll be mine again soon enough~" Grell's grin widened as he took the jacket from William, walking across the room to hang it up on a hook on the back of the door. Grell kept his eyes on William as he followed him across the room, opening the door once Grell had stepped away from it and leaving through it.

"I didn't fall for your flirts the first time, Sutcliff; I certainly won't this time. Trying anything would be a waste of your time." The door was shut abruptly with a snap, Grell watching the door with a suspicious grin on his face that would have put the London Undertaker to shame. Because to him, those words weren't a warning to back off.

No, they were an invitation.


	2. Morning

**A/N**: Hey, here's the next chapter! Hurh, Bio exam in a couple of days; dreading it is me! But this ain't a blog, but it may contain little updates and explanations! One I feel I should make clear since someone PMed me and asked about it; William is cold and stone hearted for a reason xD He hasn't seen Grell in a hundred years, so he's a little edgy around him on the first day he's seen him in so long. He's also slightly embarrassed; Grell knows him inside and out –quite literally- and he'll be in close contact with him whilst not really _with _him. I don't think William is the type to appreciate his workers discussing his life in the office, thus he's reluctant to put Grell next to _Ronald, _of all people xD

Anywho, enjoy!

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><p>When Grell awoke the next morning, it was in annoyance. His eyes felt as though sand had been deposited behind his eyelids, making it painful for him to open his eyes properly until he'd rubbed them. His bones felt like lead, and he knew immediately he was awake <em>much <em>too early. He couldn't really understand why he was awake; a hand shaking his shoulder quickly made it obvious as to why.

"Come on, wake up." Grell groaned loudly at the words, eyes opening fully to look at William standing next to his bed, bent slightly to shake him awake.

"It's a _Saturday_." Grell complained, flinching when the sheets were pulled off him.

"I'm not sure how it works in Greece, but in England people don't stop dying just because a Shinigami wants a day off." William answered, frowning when Grell rolled over and stuck his face in his pillows.

"In Greece, we work in teams of two; some of us work three and a half days a week, the other team works the rest. You should try it sometime!" Grell spoke sarcastically, still groggy and wanting to fall back asleep.

"Indeed, I would, but as head of the division, I would still have to work seven days a week. Now get up." The sheets were pulled back even further, pooling around the redhead's waist as William attempted to get him out of bed.

"No. You're quite sadistic, Will, if you're going to make everyone suffer just because you have to work everyday." Grell burrowed himself further into his pillows as he spoke, to the point where the end of his sentence was muffled and hard to understand. William shook his head, knowing he'd have to use his last resort. He'd known Grell would be difficult, and didn't want to use it, but short of dragging Grell from the bed to the office, he had no choice.

"Very well. I suppose you shall have to meet my fiancé when still in bed." At the word 'fiancé' Grell bolted upright, fully awake and eyes alight in surprise and veiled shock. He searched William's face, and once he locked eyes with the darker haired Shinigami, he scowled. William rarely lied, and whenever he did there was always a glint in his eyes that gave it away.

"That was terrible of you. To say something like that; you should be ashamed!"

"I know. I will take the time to weep profusely for such a sin later on. For now, you need to get up. You have an hour to get ready before we have to leave." William deposited a cup of coffee on Grell's bedside table before he quickly left, clearly eager to leave the room as soon as was possible.

Grell shook his head, taking the coffee from the table and taking a sip of it. He promptly yelped when he burned his tongue.

On the other side of the door, William Spears rolled his eyes, and made his way into the kitchen area of the house. He heard a clatter from the kitchen and, completely ignoring the source of it, he calmly walked to the basin and frowned at the coffee cup that was left carelessly in the cold water.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of silver, and in instinct his scythe was in his hand and held up quickly. It collided with another scythe and, with his body half titled and scythe arm outstretched, William merely gave a sigh.

"How many times do I need to tell you to wash out the cup if you are going to steal my coffee?" He asked, tone bored as he refrained from yawning and instead locked eyes with the other Shinigami in the room. The offending scythe was pulled back and slung over a shoulder, its owner grinning.

"Just testing your reflexes." At the words, William retracted his own scythe and placed the now-clean cup into one of the cupboards.

"Unnecessary. Now, could you explain why you are here this morning? If I recall correctly, Slingby, you had today off." William commented, watching as Eric Slingby sat down in one of the wooden chairs at the table. William sat opposite him, ledger already on the table with the names of the Shinigami being sent out to reap the most recent souls of the dead.

"I'm covering Ronald's shift for him today; he scored last night." Eric answered lazily, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms loosely over his chest.

"Slingby, I _know _that that is a lie. I also recall that Alan was due to have today off; I know for a fact that if the two of you both have a day off, not even _I _could pay one of you extra to come in." An all-knowing smirk graced William's lips momentarily, cold and false. "So tell me; why aren't you and Humphries following one another about like lost, pining puppies?" William looked up from his ledger once he'd finished speaking, smirk gone from his face as Eric grumbled under his breath.

"Ass. Alan hasn't been feeling his best; he won't tell me what's wrong, and I'm too bored to stay in that house all day." To annoy William, Eric put his feet up on the table and crossed his legs at the ankles.

"I guessed as much." At the look on Eric's face, William continued. "You thought I didn't know? From my office, Eric, I see everything. Just because you can not see me from the desks does not mean that I can not see you." William flicked a page in his ledger, ignoring the minute look of surprise on the other Shinigami's face.

"But it's forbidden, right? I'm still his mentor and senior; I thought fraternisation and all the connotations were against protocol?" Eric asked, smirk on his face as William leaned back in his seat to gain access to a kitchen drawer. Eric only shook his head when William procured a quill and ink vial from the drawer. William waited a moment before he answered the other man's question.

"Incorrect. Useless, one-night relationships are forbidden. However, if it is a valid relationship or the get together is made with the intent of dating, then there is nothing to stop it." William gave Eric a pointed look at this, pushing his glasses up his face and then writing something into the ledger in his neat handwriting.

"Interesting… I didn't know that…" Eric took on a contemplating look for a moment, before he grinned again and looked at William. "And what about you? Not even here a day and already rumours are flying around about you and that redhead. Some are believable; others are simply hilarious." Eric emphasised the last word, a cunning look behind his eyes. William raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed? I'm sure I don't wish to hear them. _Any _of them." William looked back down at his book, but not without seeing the look on Eric's face that told him that Eric would relay the rumours anyway, regardless of whether he wanted to hear them or not.

"The worst one includes you both having been princes of rival countries in your human lives, tangled in a torrid love affair before you were both assassinated and found to be Shinigami. They're saying that you've been searching the Shinigami world for each other ever since. The most believable one is that you're both men who engaged in a torrid love affair at the Academy, having a love-hate relationship before he fled for fear of commitment, and left you in England." Eric gave a laugh at this, unable to imagine his boss in _any _type of relationship, let alone a love affair. At first, he hadn't believed any of them, but the silence that had befallen William give him a signal that perhaps some of the rumours may have been true.

In what could have been the worst timing possible, Grell chose that moment to walk in, hips swinging and flipping his hair over his shoulders. He gave William a sly grin, shark teeth on show as he sauntered past William to place his own cup in the basin. The look he had passed William said it all, and Eric held back a snort of laughter as he let his eyes look at the redhead who was now turned away from them. He was about to open his mouth when William threw him a warning look.

"Not a _word_." William murmured quietly, loud enough for Eric to hear but too quiet to reach Grell's ears. Eric stifled another laugh.

"You… and _him_?" Eric mouthed just as quietly, holding his head in his hands to hide the features of a grin. If he'd had to picture William with someone, it would have been a strict, by-the-book person who had no interest in breaking rules or having a drop of desirable personality. It was definitely not –in his mind- someone as blatantly forward as the redhead at the basin.

Well, opposites attracted, he supposed.

"Will~ I'm ready; are you happy I had to wake up on a Saturday for this?" Grell asked, tone grumpy before he smiled at Eric. "Hello! Alan, right?"

"Nope. Eric Slingby. We only met briefly." Eric gave him an edgy grin, and William didn't need to think too much to realise it was likely because Grell hadn't been particularly friendly to Alan the previous day.

"Ah, yes, I remember you now!" Grell gave him a full smile, completely oblivious to the conversation that had gone on before he had entered the room. Flicking his hair over his shoulders again, he placed a cup back in the cupboard as Eric stifled another laugh, eyes on William.

Closing his ledger with a snap, William did all he could to keep himself from groaning in annoyance.

It would be a _very _long day.


	3. Dark

**A/N**: Hey! Haha, one exam down, six more to go and then I'm free~! I think I've done okay, and to celebrate, I'm going to give you a quick chapter! (That and, since I've an exam on Monday _and _Tuesday, I'll have no computer time unless it's to re-revise RE Keywords or Lit stuffs *unhappy*) However, to counteract my half-happy mood, Imma write a not-so-brilliant chapter. I think. I've also a quick and easy idea for a one shot that could pertain to the future of the plot of this, but not sure if I should write it or not, since it's one sided Willx*insert name of other Shinigami I'll be keeping secret* and not WillxGrell. What do you guys think?

Anywho, enjoy!

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><p>The Shinigami Offices were, during the day, bright and full of life. Be it tired workers or happy workers, life bustled in the pristine building. Cleaners hummed, workers chatted and attempted to mingle romantically, and bosses watched over their workers with either a small smile or a frown. Even when everyone was quietly working, the tapping of keys on a typewriter would be heard clearly no matter where in the building one would be.<p>

At night, it was a completely different story.

The hallways were dark and daunting, clean floors shining in the moonlight in an empty building. No sound could be heard, not even the tweeting of sleepy birds outside the windows or the sounds of shoes on the hallways as tired head of departments left their offices in the earliest hours of the morning.

To a calm William and a worried Eric, the entire building was bordering horror-story in terms of settings. They were walking through the building by memory, unable to see far into the hallways due to the darkness and lack of moonlight on the lower floors.

Eric was two steps behind William, one arm out to hold onto the wall to make sure he didn't walk straight into one. William was moving quickly, tired, irritated, annoyed and, as much as he hated to admit it, slightly concerned.

But only for the speed that operations would run if Eric's two in the morning house call could be believed.

Opening the set of double doors that were at the end of the hallway they'd been going down, both of them stopped momentarily at the sight inside the room.

The infirmary, usually bright to help lift the moods of injured Shinigami, was only a slight bit brighter than the gloomy hallways they'd been moving down. One candle was lit at the furthest end of the room, casting a light on the last five beds, and nothing else. The large windows, although the drapes were open, showed no light due to facing the opposite side of the direction of the light.

William walked calmly towards the man standing next to the final bed; Eric followed but gave a small noise of surprise when he didn't find who he was looking for.

Looking up into the face of the director, William gave a small nod to the bed before speaking.

"What happened?"

"That is something I am trying to coax out of the other one. He, however, will not speak to me." William narrowed his eyebrows at that, looking to the bed and sighing when he locked eyes with Grell. The redhead was grinning to himself, sitting crossed legged on the bed, and was covered with blood.

"Where's Alan?" Eric's voice came from behind William, masking concern as he looked to Grell for an answer.

"Here." The brunette in question stepped closer to them; they had both walked straight past him to get to the end bed and hadn't seen him due to the darkness. Eric's hand was on his shoulder before his features could even be made out properly. William raised an eyebrow at it; the two –especially Eric- had become a lot more touchy-feely since William's talk with Eric.

"Are you okay?" Eric asked, concern masked with a small smile. Alan let his hand lay on his shoulder before he shrugged it off, frowning.

"I'm fine. He's the one who has nearly died, not me."

"What happened?" Eric asked before William could even open his lips to speak. Alan gave Eric a quick glance before looking at Grell.

"He taunted a demon." He answered plainly, looking up to his mentor and best friend as William shook his head.

"Not even two months in, and _this _happens." He muttered quietly, eyes on Grell. The redhead laughed, shrugging.

"I killed it!_ And_ we got the soul! We didn't really _do _anything wrong!" Grell attempted to uncross his legs and stand up, but a spasm of pain shot through him and he decided against it. His back was aching, cuts and bruises in place under his black suit jacket and arms covered in blood. Half of it was his own; the other half was the blood of the demon he and Alan had killed.

"He's on the verge of becoming delirious. Check if there is anything in the nurse's office to make him sleep." The director spoke, almost an order as he looked at Grell in wariness.

"No, don't. Grell, what happened?" Grell looked up at him again, smile disappearing from his face; William sensed the mood swing coming before Grell had even spoke.

"I don't see why _I _should be interrogated-" At the annoyed tone in the redhead's voice, William quickly cut the redhead off.

"Then get some rest." William's tone held no room for disagreement, prompting the redhead to harrumph and lay back on the bed. His overly-dramatic mood could be placed on stress from fighting a demon, but William silently noted to not let the redhead get away with such a tone with him again. He turned to Alan, who was talking quietly with Eric. He had no visible injuries, but he seemed to be trying hard to control his breathing. Eric, however, didn't notice that small detail as Alan spoke, more than likely because he was too concerned over his friend's wellbeing.

"Alan, I need details of what happened." The brunette looked up to William at his words, giving a small nod.

"It was a leashed demon, tied to one of the souls we were supposed to collect. It was leashed to a girl. Mr Sutcliff taunted it whilst I got the soul, but he kept on fighting when we should have left straight away. I tried to fight, too, but-"

"-but he nearly _fainted _halfway through-"

"Quiet, Sutcliff. Alan, continue." William spared Grell only a frown when the redhead had cut in front of Alan, but the redhead's words had been enough to make Eric give a frown from behind the brunette.

"Mr Sutcliff became injured, but he managed to destroy the demon. I had to bring him back because he was limping too heavily to do the transport himself."

"I see." William looked at Eric, giving him a nod. "Take him home. Alan, I expect your report on this by tomorrow noon. I assume the soul is in the library?" He asked, pushing his glasses up his face as Alan gave an eager nod.

"Yes, I placed it there before you got here." Alan answered quietly, as Eric tried to lead him away. William watched them leave, hearing them bicker light-heartedly as Eric tried to lazily –or perhaps in concern- put his arm around the brunette. He heard Alan mutter something along the lines of 'I'll be _fine_' before they disappeared through the doors, leaving William, Grell and the director in the infirmary.

"Well, I don't think we want the nurse having a coronary in the morning if she enters to find this one in her infirmary. Spears, take him with you." The director gave no moment for protests from William, and he left swiftly.

Hesitantly, and extremely annoyed, William pulled Grell up from where he was laying on the bed. His touches were light, mindful of the injuries on the redhead as Grell gave a flirtatious giggle at having William's arm around his waist.

"One word, Sutcliff, and I'm assigning you Ronald's extra paperwork." William threatened, arm tightening on the redhead's waist to steady him. Grell scowled.

"I've noticed you seem _awfully _attached to him. I don't like it _one bit_." Grell complained, head lolling onto William's shoulder. With a sharp upwards movement of his arm, William knocked Grell in the side of the head to make him move his head.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Sutcliff. Knox may not look it, but he's one of the most competent Shinigami I've come across."

"I'm pretty competent, too.~" The glint in the redhead's eyes showed William that they were certainly _not _talking about the same type of competency, and he merely rolled his eyes at the redhead and dragged him from the infirmary. Grell was muttering under his breath, clearly tired after the collection he'd just been on. Every movement likely hurt, and William inwardly winced as he glanced to the wounds on Grell's back.

Almost stopping where he was standing, William wondered just how Grell was going to clean those wounds on his own. The thought of having to clean them _for _him was discouraging; He knew Grell would try _something _with him, as the redhead was not the type to pass up a chance that presented itself as clearly as him being half naked and tended to by William.

"Y'know, Will, you're so much _colder _than you were in the academy. You used to _smile_. Do you remember how to do that, Will?" Grell asked, sad grin on his face as their surroundings changed to the living area of their shared home. William raised an eyebrow.

"I find, Grell, that I do not have the time to engage in activities to make me smile. I spend most of my free time checking incorrect paperwork handed in constantly by Eric, occasionally by Ronald and –recently- _you_." William answered, loosening his hold on the redhead and helping him up the steep staircase to the bathroom. Grell gave a laugh.

"I don't even think you smiled properly. It was more of a twitch of the lips. Heh, I used to find that _so _funny!" Grell gave another laugh before a mood swing kicked in and he jerked away from William. "Don't touch me." His eyes were guarded, and William gave a small sigh, ignoring the pang of an emotion he'd long forgotten in favour of gripping the redhead's upper arm and dragging him up the rest of the stairs. The grin came back at the force William was exerting into dragging him up, and he cackled.

"Not a word. Get in that bathroom, fill the bath up with the water in the buckets, strip and then I'll tend to your wounds." William all but threw Grell into the room, closing the door and locking it from the outside.

Leaning against the wall next to the door, William shook his head and yawned into the back of his hand. Had Eric arrived in his bedroom at two in the morning to tell him to check on any random returned and injured Shinigami, William would have likely told him to get out of his house and return in the morning. But the fact that it was _two _possibly injured Shinigami –William hadn't really been able to tell; Eric had worked himself up into such an uncharacteristic worry he couldn't understand most of what he'd been saying- combined with the fact that one of them was Grell Sutcliff had raised his concerns. Despite what he wanted to tell himself, there was a part of him that worried that an injured Grell would be prone to mood swings and would likely do something drastic. He wasn't really sure if he had been concerned because of the impact it would have on the division, or because of something else entirely.

There was silence in the hallway as William listened to Grell pouring the water into the bath, before the sound was gone and replaced with the rustle of clothing being removed. Preparing himself for a very flirtatious and likely fully naked Grell, William pushed his glasses up his face again and moved away from the wall. There was a silence on both sides of the door, lasting only a minute before it was broken.

"Will~ why's the water so _cold_?"


	4. Discussion

**A/N**: Hey! Here's the next chapter, folks! I think it'd be interesting to let you all know that I found ma muse! Well, kind of? It's just a WillxGrell music video (Reread as 'Dozens of lovely GrellxWilliam pics'), similar to the one that I watched when writing Problematic. Here's the link www(DOT)you tube(DOT)com(SLASH)watch? V = WU7kq485Yjw. Just remove the spaces and replace the (DOT) with a '.' Obviously, I didn't make it, but I really do love that video. (Plus, it's Daughtry; what more could I ask for?) If the link doesn't work, please tell me D:

Anywho, off to the next chapter!

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><p>"You're awfully quiet~" Grell's voice cut through the silence that had descended on himself and William. They were in the bathroom, Grell sitting in the cool water with his knees drawn up to his chest, and was occasionally flicking the water in boredom as William tended to his wounds. William himself was kneeling on the floor behind Grell and the bathtub, suit blazer suspended on a hook on the back of the door and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his waist.<p>

"Indeed." It was his only reply, and Grell had to wonder why he seemed so quiet before all his thoughts halted at a searing pain through his back. His head, which was titled, caught a sight of William wincing.

"Ouch! What did you _do_?" Grell half-yelled, seeing white spots in his vision and starting to feel a little dizzy. He wondered if William was getting revenge for him walking into the bathroom to find Grell standing _out _of the tub instead of sitting _in _it, and completely naked. In his defence, William hadn't mentioned specifically that he needed to be _in _the tub when he entered to clean his wounds.

"I ripped some of your skin off." Gingerly, and with a barely-noticeable look of disgust on his face, William leaned around and dangled a thin piece of blackened skin in front of Grell's face. The redhead stared at it for a moment before giving an 'eee' of mortification and scrabbling backwards against the sides of the bath to get away from it.

"Tell me you dipped that in ink!" Grell demanded, not feeling William's palm place itself warmly on his back until another layer of skin was ripped off with a scalpel. "Stop it!"

"I can't." William offered, tone neutral as he carefully pulled another, smaller layer of skin off Grell's back. "There, that's enough now, to be safe."

"Why are you _brutally _pulling my skin from the centre of my back?"

"Well, if you'd simply told us that the demon had reverted to its original form earlier, I might not have had to do it." His tone was matter of fact, prompting a scowl from Grell. The redhead wrapped his arms around his knees and frowned.

"How did you know?" As an answer to Grell's question, William merely nodded in the direction of the blackened skin resting on the sides of the bath. "What _is _it?"

"It is simply a small rotting of the skin that results from a wound coming into direct contact with a demon." William answered calmly, wiping his hands on a cloth before tending to the other cuts on the redheads back. Grell groaned loudly, resting his head on his knees in anguish.

"Why does this stuff always happen to me?"

"It could be worse." William offered, with one eyebrow raised as he searched for another piece of cloth. Grell inclined his head back towards William.

"How could it be _worse_?" The redhead asked sceptically, voice rising to a dramatic octave in pain as William accidentally pressed hard on a wound on Grell's upper back.

"You could be dead. Or the distraction of the demon could have allowed the record of the soul to get into your body, and you could have contracted Thorns of Death from being so _idle_." William's tone was cold, although his touch on cleaning the rest of Grell's wounds was gentle.

"Thorns of Death… where have I heard that before?"

"Two times, most likely. The first time is when they examined you after we did our Final Test, and John Green's soul tried to enter your body. They wanted to make sure that I'd cut the soul away properly and not allowed it to embed into you."

"And the second time I'll have heard it?" Grell asked after nodding, curiosity taking over. A cold, uncaring look passed through William's eyes at the question.

"Why do you think I got promoted to head of the department within three months of transferring to London?" The bitter tone to his voice sent a shiver through Grell.

"That's creepy."

"Some of the workers like to think I willingly transferred with the prior knowledge about the previous head's disease, and that I was waiting for him to die so I could take over. In truth, I was transferred _because _they needed a successor, but I did not know about it until two days before he died…" William trailed off in wonder, seeming distracted as he looked at Grell's back.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't understand why these wounds haven't healed already." William answered, leaning backwards towards a small cupboard and, looking like he was in a highly uncomfortable position, sifting through it to look for a dark brown bottle. Grell turned to look at him in alarm, eyes darting to the bottle warily.

"What is that, Will?" Grell asked, nose scrunching up in disgust when William opened the bottle and a strong, unpleasant smell reached his nostrils.

"Aloe Vera. Digestible _and _practical. Now turn back around." Grell did as he was told, preferring the idea of turning _away _from the bottle so he didn't have to drink the liquid.

"So, how common is this Thorns of Death? I didn't think Shinigami could die…" Grell asked quietly, wincing when William's long fingers rubbed the liquid over the central wound on his back.

"It is very rare. I myself have only ever seen two cases of it, and one of the cases is merely a suspicion."

"One of the cases…? Who has it?" Grell gave a laugh at the feeling of cloth tickling his back as he asked the question, and found to his relief that William was covering the wounds and rolling his sleeves down.

"I do not know. I received a notice from the Infirmary that one of the workers was diagnosed with it; unfortunately, they managed to destroy the documents before the nurse or I could get the name." It was only as William stood up and collected a towel for Grell did the redhead realise that William was being uncharacteristically honest with him, with no harsh words or criticisms.

Shrugging into the towel that was offered for him, Grell decided William must simply be tired.

That was, until William snaked a hand around the back of the redhead's neck slowly, touch light enough to send the redhead into a curious daze. The pin holding his hair up was pulled out, and William carefully tugged lightly at the vibrant strands of red hair at the nape of his neck.

Then, quite suddenly, the tenderness of the action was gone as William pressed down hard onto a wound on the back of his neck. Grell gasped in pain, but couldn't finish it as the bottle of Aloe Vera mixture was placed in his mouth, shook lightly and then removed. William placed a hand over Grell's mouth to prevent him from spitting the strong-tasting liquid back out.

"Swallow it." Grell raised a suggestive eyebrow at those words, but swallowed the Aloe Vera nonetheless and gave a shudder of disgust at the taste.

"You are a horrible, _horrible _man! I can't believe you just did that!" Grell became automatically prissy, but William merely placed the cork back into the bottle and gave him an unimpressed look.

"I am not in the mood to spend hours arguing with you to get you to drink the Aloe Vera. I dislike wasting time. Now come on, hurry up." William opened the bathroom door, waiting for Grell to step through it before he took the candelabra from its place on a shelf and followed Grell through the house.

Grell led the way downstairs to the living area, where they'd split to go to their rooms. Grell was glad for this; half of him wanted to turn around and slap William across the face for the stunt he'd just pulled. The other half of him was still reeling from the momentary closeness and remembering the touch across the back of his neck. He was blushing _terribly_.

"Your wounds should have healed dramatically by morning. However, if they are not, I will see whether we can afford to allow you to stay at home for the day."

With that said, William left Grell standing in the middle of the room, still slightly shocked from William's earlier actions, and went into his own bedroom. He locked the door behind him, standing the candelabra on the desk and almost collapsing onto his bed.

Really, what on _earth_ had he been thinking?

William placed his chin in the palm of his hand, staring at the candle fire as he pondered what he'd nearly done. He'd allowed them both to slip into an old, almost forgotten sense of familiarity, and it had nearly cost him the working relationship he'd managed to instil between himself and Grell. He considered it mere _luck _that he'd had the Aloe Vera bottle in his hand at the time, else there would have been a very awkward atmosphere in their house. Blowing the flame from the candle, William shook his head at his own ridiculousness as darkness enveloped his room.

He would not, under _any _circumstances, allow himself to fall for Grell Sutcliff.

Not again.


	5. Inner Office Arguments

**A/N**: Hey! Here's the next chapter! Hope ya'll enjoy! (: Might have another chapter out quickly after this; I've just started Half Term, so I can revise during the day and write on the evenings; meaning more Boundaries plot bunnies to be sketched down to write about! Although this chappy seems like a filler, it's actually outlining the whole 'What's up with AlanxEric' side plot and the 'Who else loves Will' side plot.

I wrote this whilst listening to a very, _very _funny video on youtube. Type 'Grell the Corpse Bride: Remains of the Day into youtube, and it should be the first result to come up; I giggled so much at it, and thought you all might like to see it if your interested in it!

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><p>The atmosphere in the office the next day was strained, at best, William noted as he walked in. Most of the workers were sitting with their heads down, furiously typing away at their typewriters. Grell was staying at home, due to the wound in the centre of his back healing slowly; the rest had healed, however, and he'd be in the next day. Alan and Eric were both sitting at their adjacent desks, chair's swivelled around so they weren't facing each other, and had their arms crossed over their chests.<p>

William scanned the room, hoping that Ronald would be leaning against the glass windows that were the walls of William's office with a remark to relieve the tension that seemed to clog up the room. He wasn't, and it took William a moment to remember that he'd told Ronald he could have the day off.

He was regretting it already.

He stood quietly in the doorway to the room, gauging where the tension of the room seemed to be largest before pinpointing the cause as Alan and Eric. The Shinigami closest to those two seemed to be more rigid and tense than the others in the room. Eric and Alan hadn't looked up at his entrance, but were still sitting back in their chairs looking, for lack of better words, like they were sulking. William cleared his throat lightly, neatening his tie as nearly all the other workers looked up at him.

Eric and Alan stayed where they were, unmoving as they glared at the floor. They were unlucky in the sense that their desks were right next to the wall length windows, meaning that the morning light revealed every crease in their brow as their eyes narrowed.

Shaking his head, William walked straight into his office and closed the blinds that covered the windows facing the office. The office darkened somewhat, and with a satisfied nod William placed his briefcase on his desk before quickly striding out of his office and looking at all his workers.

"Everyone, heads down, keep working." With that said, he weaved his way through the desks before reaching Eric and Alan. Before Grell had arrived a few months prior, he had been the strongest Shinigami in their division. That was shown clearly as he grabbed the tips of both Eric and Alan's ears and, ignoring their protesting cries, led them to his office. A chorus of 'ouch' echoed around the room as he pulled them around the desks and all but threw them into his office. Pointing at the two chairs in front of his desk, he gave them a look that told them not to argue.

"Sit down." His words were spoken slowly, a harsh tone in his voice as both Eric and Alan did as they were told, but not before the latter had pulled his chair away from Eric's. Using his scythe, William extended it so that the tip of it completely halted the path of the chair as it was dragged, so that it couldn't be moved any further than a few inches away from directly in front of his desk. "Mr Humphries, if I had wanted you to move your chair to the other side of the room, I would have told you to do so." At his words, Alan gave a nod and sat down, crossing his arms as Eric gave a smirk. William's narrowed eyes in his direction quickly wiped it off.

"Why are we in here?" Eric asked, leaning back in his seat and glancing at William as the darker haired of the two shut and locked his office door.

"Take a guess, Mr Slingby." William retracted his scythe as he made his way around his desk, sitting in his chair and looking at the two Shinigami in front of him. Eric was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed loosely over his chest and legs stretched out so that they pushed against the wooden back of William's desk. Alan was sitting ramrod straight, one leg crossed over the other neatly, arms crossed and eyes fixed anywhere but at the two Shinigami in the room with him. "Alan, you are _not_ Grell Sutcliff. I suggest that you immediately get rid of this prissy demeanour of yours. Or at the very least, tone it down and look this way." William commented, watching as Alan's cheeks tinged a light red and the brunette changed his position so he was sitting properly in his chair.

"Quiet, Slingby." Alan muttered under his breath when he heard the snickers of his friend. Eric whistled.

"Ouch, last name references, now? How you wound-"

"Be quiet, both of you. You are both adult Shinigami; I would have assumed that you had gotten past the stubborn, sulking three year old phase when you were humans. Now I'm not sure if you've had a lover's argument, or if one of you has done something terrible, but _sort it out_." William put a particular emphasis on the last words as Eric looked to be getting bored already. Alan shook his head.

"He's getting paranoid. Over _nothing_." Alan looked down at the floor as he spoke, although Eric flashed William a smirk at Alan not correcting William on the 'Lover's spat' comment. He did, however, sit up properly and look at Alan once the brunette's words had sunk in.

"You fell _twice_ on the way back to the house. What did you expect me to do? Stand there an-" Eric started, but he was abruptly cut off by William.

"I was unaware you were so injured last night so as to be unable to walk properly the short distance from here to your home. Eric was right to be concerned. _However_, why have you brought this argument to the office?" William raised one eyebrow and lowered the other, eyes hard as the two before him couldn't find an appropriate answer. After a few moments of silence, Eric burst out laughing and Alan coughed into the back of his hand.

"We just did. How were we _supposed _to resolve it when Alan kept glaring like a kicked puppy whenever I tried to talk to him? Y'know, he attacked me last night. Physically _attacked _me. I was merely trying to make sure he was okay." Eric's tone moved more towards teasing than it was serious, although Alan looked to the floor again and shook his head.

"Slingby, since you seem to be perfectly fine, I do not think Alan injured you too badly." William commented, folding his hands on the table and lowering his eyebrow. Eric shrugged. Alan looked up again and, for the first time since they'd entered the office, looked over at Eric. There was a haunting look in his eyes, as though he were about to apologise for something much greater than neither William nor Eric could comprehend.

"Eric, I'm sorry." In response to that –oblivious to any other meanings it could hold- Eric leaned across and lightly ruffled the brunette's hair before standing up. William's eyes followed them as Eric hauled Alan to his feet and, talking about something completely trivial, led Alan from the office talking quite cheerfully to his best friend. William didn't even berate them for leaving without his permission to do so.

Honestly, if he had to put up with more of these arguments between Shinigami in the office, then he was never going to let Ronald Knox have another day off again.

Fixing inner office arguments was the blonds' thing, not his.

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><p>"So, boss." William didn't look up when he was spoken to; he was eager to finish the form he was filling out and send it quickly to management to solve recent problems with the area that his office and workers were presiding in. Without looking up, and with brilliant accuracy, William extended his scythe across the room to one of the shelves at the side wall, the blade skimming gloved fingers and hitting the plastered brick wall loudly.<p>

"Hand's _off _the bowl of apples, Mr Knox. Now, why are you here? I believe I gave you today off." William asked, looking up at the grinning blond and raising an eyebrow.

"I was sitting at home and I thought 'I wonder how William is doing at the office today', and then out of kindness I came in this afternoon to see my dear old boss." Ronald moved closer to the desk, and as he did so the smell of fresh parchment and cleanly cut grass started to infiltrate William's senses. William placed his quill down, eyes on Ronald.

"And the real reason?" He questioned, sitting back elegantly in his seat. Ronald dropped the deceiving smile to a softer one as he placed his palms on the desk in front, still standing up.

"I need next Thursday afternoon off." The answer was blunt, a grin on Ronald's face as William's eyebrows rose to practically meet his hairline.

"No." The grin fell completely.

"Aw, come on boss! I even came in this afternoon to make up for the shift I'd miss."

"A choice you made entirely on your own. Your date with Elizabeth will have to wait." William picked his quill up again, returning to a new sheet of paper to fill out a form. Ronald leaned back, looking slightly suspicious with a hint of half-concealed eagerness.

"What makes you think that?"

"I know only one female Shinigami who wishes to repeatedly wear a perfume that reminds one of raw sex. That very smell is clinging to you." At those words, Ronald's eyebrows rose halfway up his forehead. They rose even further when William added, "She's married, you know."

"Really? Aha…" Ronald rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Well, it's a good thing I haven't been on a date with her, then. Wait, how did you know that the smell just wasn't _me_?" William looked up at that, one eyebrow raised in a manner that showed Ronald he didn't approve of the question. "_Right_, awkward question, bad memories…"

A frown appeared on William's face, and Ronald quickly hurried to cover the last sentence from his mouth up.

"I mean, when you put it like _that_, it sounds much more suggestive than it actually _was_ and… should I just keep quiet?"

"That would be appreciated, Ronald." William answered, shaking his head. He'd once been unfortunate enough to be the last one in the hotel that usually hosted their annual Christmas Party, and a drunken Ronald Knox had come across him. Ronald had reeked of nothing but sex and sweat, and the blond had mentioned something along the lines of 'why are you immune to me?' before passing out on the floor. William had only been working at the London Branch for three months, and had already made it very clear to Ronald that he wasn't going to be jumping into bed with the blond. When William had to wake Ronald up several hours later, it was to find that Ronald was feeling awkward and was very much aware of what he'd said the night before.

"Anyway! Where were you this morning, boss?"

"My apologies. I had assumed that you would not turn up this week due to having the day off. I also had to deal with an irritated Grell Sutcliff, which wasted most of my early morning."

"Nah, I turned up. I bought my coffee on your tab, though, to make up for you not turning up!" A cheerful grin was shot at William, who found his own lips twisting into a wry smile as Ronald's words sunk in.

"Cheers." William turned back to his work; Ronald yawned into his hand before speaking up again.

"Say, what about that Victoria?" His voice had a strange tone to it, as though he was merely saying it to try and gauge William's reaction. The darker haired of the two sensed this, and gave a sigh. He'd never had any feelings for Ronald; they'd always be-

_Stop that train of thought right now, Mister_

William shook his head at the words that dashed across his mind, and he looked up at Ronald again.

"Engaged. Also to be noted; Victoria was born 'Victoire.'" William gave a laugh at the look of dismay on Ronald's face.

"Always taken, never free. Boss, are you _certain _I can't have next Thursday afternoon off?"

"I shall think on the matter during the week. However, since you're here, you can take care of this paperwork." William heard Ronald groan loudly, and ignored it in favour of splitting the paperwork in half and handing one half of the pile to Ronald.

"Aw, no! William!" The use of his name prompted an eyebrow raise, and Ronald reluctantly took the paper, gave a half hearted salute, and left the office. William looked down to his desk again, and frowned.

Really, was it his own imagination, or did everyone seem to want to act like Grell Sutcliff today?


	6. Lounge

**A/N**: Hey! Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

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><p>"What I can't understand is this; if you two are <em>so <em>into each other, why haven't you jumped into bed yet?" The question was sudden and blunt, and the brunette shinigami it was aimed at choked on his mouthful of tea, swallowing the burning liquid suddenly before coughing violently. The younger Shinigami opposite him leant over the coffee table and gently patted him on the back, laughing hard at the question as the redhead who asked it merely looked curious.

"Do you not think that a little personal, Grell?" Alan asked, giving a nod to Ronald as his coughing ceased and the blond stopped patting him on the back. The sudden coughing had shaken him, and his chest started to ache with the pain of the Thorns clenching in protest.

"I'm simply curious." Grell's face was completely innocent, making Alan send him a suspicious stare and making Ronald snort.

"Liar." Ronald breathed out, laughing at the beetroot red colour of Alan's face as he coughed again.

"You know, Alan, if I were in your shoes, I'd have done the deed already. I just _can't resist_ handsome men!" Grell gave a shiver, prompting a frown from Alan. Ronald watched whilst trying to stifle a laugh; neither of them had noticed Eric coming up behind them.

"Well, there's a lie in itself." Eric's voice cut in front of whatever Alan was about to say, his laughing tone startling both the brunette and the redhead. Grell stiffened once he realised who it was, whereas Alan seemed to relax much more. Eric sat down on the settee next to Ronald, facing Grell and Alan with a smug smirk on his face. Grell paused for a moment before raising one hand delicately in question.

"And how would that be a lie, exactly?" Grell asked, watching Eric sit back in the seat as the blond looked purposely thoughtful and stroked his chin.

"Well, what was it you said? Oh yes, you said that it took you five months to sleep with our dear old boss despite you knowing him for nearly two years. Now why was that?"

"I… Um, well-"

"Ah! Now I remember! Little Grell was too scared of rejection to do anything earlier." Ronald gave a cackle at the look on Grell's face; he looked like a deer that had just noticed a carriage speeding towards it. The redhead leant forward.

"How did you know that?" His voice was shrill, and with a grin Eric gave a shrug and took his leather hip flask from a pocket in his suit jacket.

"Alcohol makes you talk." Both Grell and Alan narrowed their eyes at this, but for very different reasons.

"But how? I never drink more than one glass of wine…" Grell trailed off as Eric raised one eyebrow in laughter and tipped his drink in Grell's direction before taking a swig. Then it clicked. "Oh you _bastard_! I _knew _my water tasted funny the day before last!" At those words, all but Grell started laughing. Grell harrumphed and sat back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other and arms crossed, eyes shooting daggers at Eric.

"You shouldn't be surprised, Grell." Ronald choked through his laughter, shaking his head and taking Eric's flask, downing a mouthful before handing it back to Eric.

"You are _villains_! Taking advantage of a lady in such a way!"

"As long as your virtue is intact, I think we're pretty fine in the villain department." Eric answered, giving the redhead a wink before looking at Alan. "Although I _do _agree with Grell's point." He raised his eyebrows suggestively, prompting a blush and a smile to grace Alan's face before he set his cup on the coffee table and stood up.

"As do I. Now, I have to go and see Maria." Alan gave them all a respectful nod, his gaze lingering painfully on Eric as he left. Ronald sat forward, resting his chin in his palm and his elbow on his knee.

"Who's Maria?"

"Student Nurse, isn't she?" Grell asked after Ronald, eyes on Eric. The blond shrugged.

"She helped him out of a tight spot a few months back. I think he feels obliged to see her every week for it, or something. How should I know?" Eric sighed; Grell leaned forward with his hands to his chest, fingertips curled together into a heart shape.

"Because you're his _lover_~"

"I've been told to calm down when it comes to his medical health. You should have seen him; I thought he was going to try and kill me. Told me I was two steps away from becoming his wet nurse if I didn't stop being so 'paranoid' about his health. So I've stopped asking questions whenever he goes to speak to the nurse."

"You'll be his wet _something_ if you two keep going on the way you are, and I don't think it'll be his nurse." The words flew from Ronald's mouth before the blond could even realise what was going through his head, and both Eric and Grell froze in their seats and simply stared at him. Ronald's cheeks flared, and then he started to laugh rather loudly. Grell reacted first after that, sitting back in his chair and giving an 'eee' of shock.

"Ronald Knox! I am _appalled_!" His voice carried, although few Shinigami in the lounge actually turned to look at them. Eric himself started to laugh, clapping Ronald on the back.

"Kid, when you say them dirtily, boy you really say them!"

"Aha… Well, I'm going to quickly get to my desk before my shift starts! I don't want to be late, or get on Mr. Spears' bad side!" Ronald cast the two remaining a grin before throwing his suit jacket on and leaving. Grell gave him a smile, although it quickly dropped to a scowl when Ronald was out of earshot and sight.

"'Don't want to get on Mr. Spears' bad side!'" The redhead mimicked, his voice unnecessarily high as he glared at the door Ronald had just left through. Eric rolled his eyes, taking a final swig of his drink before capping it and placing it back into his inside pocket.

"Calm down, _Missy_." He warned, smirk on his face as Grell abruptly switched his gaze to Eric.

"I'm perfectly calm."

"No, you're not. You've a problem with Ronald, and it takes an idiot to not see it." At those words, Grell immediately put himself on guard, straightening in his seat and crossing his arms.

"And what would that problem be, if there was one?"

"Well, it took me a while to figure it out, actually." Eric started, standing up and slinging his scythe over his shoulder. He moved towards the door, opening it and holding it open with his foot. Then, before he left completely, he looked back to Grell to give him an answer.

"You don't like him because right now, he's the only thing stopping you from having our dear old boss as your own."

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><p>William Spears couldn't believe it.<p>

He felt like someone had grabbed a plank of wood and smacked him in the chest with it, to put it lightly. Half dazed, he walked through the empty house with his mind reeling at the revelations in his mind. Grell was working on the night shift; he had no worries about the redhead irritating him. Not yet; once the female Shinigami who had stumbled into his office at the worst possible moment managed to get a chance to talk to her friends, then Grell would hear about it and would no doubt come storming into the house in a flurry of red hair and dramatic words.

But why was he so worried about the opinion of Grell?

Fair enough, the gossip that would no doubt be flying about now was juicy enough; William Spears, cold hearted and uncaring, caught seconds away from likely being lip locked with a subordinate. It had been completely unintentional; Ronald had tripped, paperwork flying everywhere with William's own glasses being knocked off his face into the in-tray. Ronald had gripped the sides of the desk, making it so that the blond had pinned William against the desk. The secretary had walked it, given an awkward smile and then quickly left. There'd been no awkwardness between Ronald and William, as it had been a simple mistake, but there was a common concern for the gossip that would soon spread. Grell would hear, arguments would start and-

And again, _why did he care_?

But the earlier revelation seemed to hit him in the chest again, giving him a very clear answer of _why_, but not _how_. It had hit him as he'd left the office, mulling over his stopped thought the day before. His mind had about to let him confirm that perhaps it wasn't _Ronald _that his emotions were cast towards, but another.

Really, how had he gotten into this situation?

He was a logical and careful man; he acted how he did in an attempt to control a sense of balance in his life. He had no time for frivolous relationships with anyone, let alone being caught between an old lover and an exemplary shinigami. And yet now he found himself caught between the safest choice, and the most dramatic. If someone had told his human counterpart that he'd be stuck in such a situation like this a hundred years on, he'd have scoffed in ridicule.

He'd also have likely never spoken a word to Grell Sutcliff had he known the effects the redhead would have on him. William had sworn to himself only a few days prior that he would not fall for Grell Sutcliff again; the question wasn't whether he _could _go through it all again, but rather a question of had he ever _really _stopped caring? He had pondered this on his walk home after leaving the office, and after an hour of picking apart his own thoughts, William T. Spears had come to an answer.

No, he hadn't.

Denying it to himself was futile; doing so would only cause further problems. He had realised this the first time, all those years ago when standing outside the Undertaker's shop. Now, the simple fact was, despite a hundred years of silence and an ocean separating them, William had only locked away his emotions rather than sever them completely. The reappearance of Grell had only surfaced them.

The idea terrified him. It had terrified him in the Academy and it was alarming him now; he didn't have the _time _for these relationships, what with being the head of the division and working at least three weeks straight a month. They had both changed too much for anything to work, anyway. He had retreated too far into a cold shell, and Grell had become too forward, too dramatic. It couldn't work.

_Or perhaps, _his subconscious whispered through his mind, _you just don't want to accept that it would work exceptionally well_.

He followed rules, Grell Sutcliff did not! Ronald Knox followed them on good days, disobeyed them on some! He wasn't meant for either of them, and so he decided to merely wait it out. He could accept the truth to himself, oh yes, although the thought alone was merely scandalous; it was a definite that William Spears was harbouring feelings for at least one of his workers. He would not act on it, oh no, he would stay as the single, cold, and heartless boss whose office everyone feared having to enter. He was the professional, sharp-tongued division leader with a distaste for anything that didn't follow the rules he had set for his life.

But he himself was going against those roles by allowing himself to feel so strongly in such a way that wasn't work-orientated.

And there was nothing he could do about it.


	7. Feud

**A/N**: Hey, here's the next chapter! I do hope you enjoy!

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><p>He wanted to know what was wrong, and he'd be damned if he didn't find out.<p>

Eric hated sneaking around; he was brilliant at hiding in the shadows on the solid ground, but attempting to slowly hop across the roofs of buildings whilst attempting to follow another shinigami was proving to be rather difficult. Cloudy skies with no moon out meant that although he had a better chance of hiding if caught, it also meant that Eric could very quickly lose track of the shinigami he was following.

The shinigami was quick under normal circumstances; if he caught on to the fact that _someone _was following him, he'd be quicker.

As if the fates had read Eric's own mind, his distraction meant that he wasn't paying full attention and too late Eric noticed that he was loosing track. Even in the darkness, the shinigami had realised he was being pursued and had managed to evade Eric long enough that the blond lost sight of him.

Moving back a few feet, Eric looked around to the ground and saw a shape slink into the corners of an alley, fast and clearly attempting to evade being caught. Whether it was a demon or not, Eric couldn't be sure. Grinning to himself, Eric jumped down from one of the roofs and landed soundlessly on the hard, wet floor of the darkened alley. He hadn't even straightened himself before someone gripped his arm and yanked him backwards against a smaller body, a familiar meat-cleaver scythe going up to place against his throat. The gloved hand was gripping the cleaver near the end of the pole where it sharpened to the blade, rather than the end. The length of the scythe alone made him realise that the shinigami he was following him had caught him.

There was a sharp intake of breath behind him before he was released and roughly turned around. The eyes of the man in front of him widened momentarily before they narrowed suspiciously.

"Eric? What are you doing?" At the question, Eric gave a light hearted shrug and a grin.

"Well, Alan, I _was _taking a leisurely stroll across the rooftops before you attacked me." Alan frowned and raised an eyebrow at his friend.

"You were following me!" A statement, not a question. Eric smiled wider.

"Now see, if you knew, why did you ask?" Eric tried to be irritable to get a reaction from Alan. Instead, the brunette let go of Eric's shoulders and turned away.

"I'm working."

"Your shift ended an hour ago."

"Why are you following me?" Alan didn't receive an answer, and turned back to face Eric to demand one from his blond partner. He was met with a wry grin as Eric pushed him against the wall of the alley, lips claiming Alan's before the smaller brunette even registered what had actually happened. He resisted momentarily, caving only when Eric slipped his knee between Alan's thighs to elicit a gasp from him. It worked, and Alan become too preoccupied with Eric's fingers trailing up his left side and with kissing him fiercely that he didn't notice Eric slyly pulling down his tie clasp and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. Only when Eric slipped his right hand under the fabric of Alan's shirt and cold fingertips brushed over his heart did Alan notice, and even then he wasn't willing to do anything other than invading the mouth of his partner. It took a hard press onto his chest to fully pull Alan back to attention, and it was partially with the help of Eric fully letting go of Alan and pulling the shirt open further.

"That…" Eric panted, eyes locking with Alan's, "Is why I followed you. What is it?" Ignoring the question, Alan steadily held his lovers gaze, refusing to look down to his own chest. He knew all too well what he'd see, and pretending to think that Eric would be pointing at something else would be idiotic. Alan knew _exactly _what Eric was indicating; the wispy, bright white lines that traced around his heart could be seen all too well despite his pale skin. It was the only real outward sign of the Thorns itself that he could hide at all times, and the fact that Eric had noticed it seemed to shatter everything he'd managed to hide.

"It's nothing, Eric. A few scratches." Eric simply looked at him, showing Alan that he could see straight through the lie and, to prove it, he pulled a bottle from his suit pocket.

"Then what's this?"

"Give me that! Have you been snooping in my drawers?" Alan took a step forward, his eyes narrowed. Eric stood his ground, one hand still on Alan's chest as he shook the bottle with the other hand.

"You left it on the table before you left for work. Alan, don't lie to me, what's wrong with you?" Eric asked slowly, allowing Alan to snatch the bottle from his hand.

"It's just a cough powder remedy, for when I get trouble breathing and coughing."

"You're a Shinigami; you don't _get _coughs and difficulty breathing unless…" The blond trailed off, watching Alan's eyes twinkle with unshed tears as the answer lay there bare on his partners face. Slowly, Alan removed Eric's hand from the wispy lines on his chest and gripped his hand tightly, transporting them to an alley similar to the one they'd just been in.

"It was three months before Grell arrived, right here in this very spot. I'd gotten distracted, and the soul used my second of hesitation to get in. That really is all I can say; Eric, I _wanted _to tell you, but-"

"-but what? You didn't trust me enough to stick around?"

"I didn't want you looking at me with an expression that blatantly told me 'You're going to die soon.'" Alan let go of Eric's hand, letting it fall to the blond's side as he tried to justify keeping it secret.

"I wouldn't do that, Alan."

"You're doing it now! I didn't want you looking at me like that, and I didn't want you fussing over every activity I'd do out of worry!" Alan ranted, becoming stressed and already feeling the familiar rattle of his lungs as he started to feel difficulty breathing. Eric was at his side immediately, one arm around him and looking into his face.

"Alan… You should have told me sooner." Alan looked up at him with an angry retort ready on his tongue, but felt all anger dissipate at the uncharacteristic look of hurt on his partners face. He crumbled, seeing Eric looking at him like that, and gave a sigh of defeat.

"I'm sorry…" Closing his eyes lightly, Alan rested his head on Eric's shoulder and tried to slow down his breathing.

"There'll be a way to help you, Alan. I'll protect you from the Thorns, I swear." At the words, Alan had to resist shaking his head; he'd looked into a cure, and as far as the Shinigami knew, there was no known cure. It could be pushed back and slowed down, but the Thorns of Death would claim their Shinigami in the end. Alan didn't have the heart to tell Eric, and simply smiled.

After all, Eric would never go too far to try and protect him from it, right?

* * *

><p>William heard the clacking of heels on cobbled pavements before he saw the flash of red hair go past the lounge window. He heard the clicking of the key in the lock before he saw the door getting slammed in the reflection of the hallway mirror. William <em>heard <em>the belaboured breathing of Grell before the redhead appeared in the doorway to the lounge with reddened cheeks and looking like he'd been running.

"What are you playing at?" Grell's voice was shrill, and he was clutching the sides of the doorway in an attempt to catch his breath. His hands were wrapped tightly around his keys to the point where blood was on the verge of being drawn. William raised an eyebrow, eyes on Grell.

"That question, Grell, makes absolutely no sense. Clarify for me, if you would, just _what _I seem to be 'playing at.'" William could see Grell's temper rising; it was interesting to see the effects of one rumour on him. What on earth would have happened if Grell had ever heard any of the earlier rumours surrounding him and Ronald?

"You know _exactly _what I'm talking about!" Grell took an angry step forward, his eyes hard but still showing William that he was deeply upset by the latest rumour.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Grell." William reminded him, standing up from his seat and looking down at the redhead. Grell's eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms dramatically.

"You don't know what I've heard, William!" Grell shot back, taking another step forward as William turned around and made his way into the kitchen. Grell followed.

"Then indulge me. What exactly have you heard?" William watched as Grell threw his keys on the table, eyes never leaving William's.

"You and that Knox kid…" Grell started, waiting for William to finish the sentence for him to erase his suspicions.

"He's one my most competent Shinigami. What about him?" At those words, Grell seemed to explode.

"You're not denying it! I knew it! I knew the two of you were too close to simply be friends!" Grell took another step forward, body twisted at an angle that enabled him to completely look the victim to anyone observing. He looked small and victimised compared to William's straight backed posture.

"That is because there is nothing for me to deny, Grell. As much as your silly, romance-novel obsessed mind would like to think I am engaging in a torrid love affair with Ronald Knox, it is not true."

"But do you want it to be true?" Grell's voice was quiet, and the question completely threw William off guard.

Really, what _did_ he want?

"That split hesitation, Will, is all the answer I need. I just… I can't believe you!"

"What are you talking about?" William had to admit; part of him was baffled on what the redhead's problem was. Another half of him knew exactly what was wrong with Grell and was currently battling it out with his emotional side on how to act.

"I honestly thought that if I came back, everything would be as it was before I left. I thought you'd still love me, that you'd welcome me back. But you're just a stubborn ass who can't decide what he wants!"

"Grell, you and I both know that-"

"Don't you dare give me the speech on how we've both changed! I know very well that we've changed but damn it, Will, I didn't care! I'd hoped for an epic tale; instead you've me working to my wits end! _Nothing _I do gets me a shred of praise from you, yet you're _always _talking about 'Ronald did this' and 'Ronald did that' and, frankly, I'm sick of it!" Grell crossed his arms over his chest again, looking more than annoyed as he yelled at William.

"Then leave." The words were out of William's mouth before he could properly control them. Grell's head snapped up to look at William again, more shocked than anything at the words.

"What?"

"You heard me, Grell. Do you hate working at the London branch? Then go back to Greece. Go back to your three day shifts and your calm lifestyle, where _you _are the centre of attention. Why stay here if you're only going to get angry when I reward those who _actually _finish their paperwork on time, and do so correctly?" Once William started, he couldn't stop. Tears welled in the redhead's eyes, but it didn't deter William.

"Don't you like the way we treat you here? Then go to the Bahamas, or to the American branch! Better yet, go halfway around the world to Australia, where they'd _love _you for your sense of humour. If you don't like it here, Grell, all you need to do is sign a transfer slip and I can get you out of here faster than you think." William himself was getting rather angry, and Grell took a step back.

"You see? This is why I _hate _being here, Will! You're simply _awful_ to your employees and to me too! I've done _nothing _wrong!" Grell was seconds away from stamping his feet and, in the heat of the argument, knew he'd likely do something they'd both regret if the argument wasn't stopped. The tone of William's next words were serious and professional and, despite the dispute, more an order than anything else, especially to Grell.

"I told you; if you don't like your 'horrendous' job here, _leave_."

And Grell did.


	8. Midnight

**A/N**: Hey! Here's the next chapter! I hope you all enjoy!

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><p>It had started to rain.<p>

Eric and Alan walked in silence, one relishing the company of the other without having to hide any urges to cough or rest, and the other was filtering through his mind to try and remember the details when he'd once read something about the Thorns of Death.

For the first time in a while, Alan felt almost completely relaxed, no longer having to fret about making sure Eric didn't find his medication, or felt the raise over his heart where the soul was attempting to clutch him, or having to control his breathing to a point where he couldn't focus on much else. Knowing that Eric knew seemed to lift a massive weight off his shoulders, and he was content with walking along the street with Eric's arm around him, tucking him close to the taller mans warmer body.

"What are you thinking?" Alan asked, voice quiet as he yawned into the back of his hand.

"Nothing important." Alan gave a smile at the reply, lightly elbowing Eric in the side for the answer.

"Hey, that's my line." Eric only gave him a grin at that, shaking his head and stealing a quick kiss from the brunette. It quietened Alan, and allowed Eric the silence to think.

Although on the outside Eric seemed to be smiling, his mind was waging war within him. He couldn't grasp the idea that _Alan_, his best friend and lover, was _dying_. Eric couldn't understand why he hadn't noticed it sooner, either; Alan had spent many a day tired from being ill in the night, and regularly during their shifts if they ran into one another Alan would seem oddly pale. There'd been so many warning signs that it seemed as though he were simply ignorant of them all. Perhaps he'd noticed and yet didn't want to really pay attention to them out of fear of what they could be pointing to?

There had to be a solution. Yes, there was no cure; he knew that well enough now that he really thought back to everything he'd heard about the disease. But he remembered something else. When he'd first met Alan and had shown him to the library in the headquarters, Alan had wandered off to admire the oldest books at the very back of the library. He remembered the look of horror on Alan's face when he'd noticed that most of the books had been in a state of disrepair, with most of them falling apart and covered in dust. Eric had kicked the edge of one with his foot accidentally and, rather than risk the newbie he was supposed to be mentoring having a heart attack at the sight of it on the floor, had picked it up and quickly flipped through it before placing it back on the shelf.

There'd been a mention of 'appeasing' the Thorns, but that was all he could remember. He'd have to scour the library for it before he started his next shift. Alan glanced up to him as his grip tightened unconsciously. He gave a heavy sigh, shaking his head and then casting his eyes back to the road.

"There's no viable cure. Stop thinking about it, because no matter which way you look at it, the outcome is always the same." Alan murmured quietly, catching Eric's attention and pulling him from his thoughts.

"I don't want to talk about this, Alan."

"You can't avoid it forever." Alan warned, voice rising slightly as he quickly became annoyed at the tone of Eric's voice.

"I don't _plan_ to, Alan."

"Yes, you do! Eric, I'm going to die. I could die in a few years, I could die in a few months and I could even die tomorrow. I don't want you to keep-"

"What was that?" Eric cut in front of him abruptly with an apologetic look, dragging the brunette into the shadows of the alley. Alan gave a noise of protest.

"Don't try to distract me!"

"Calm down, Alan. Listen to that." Alan frowned, but kept quiet and attempted to pick up on whatever it was that Eric could hear.

"It sounds like…" Alan trailed off, seeming confused. Then, his features turned from slightly angry to surprised, and shrugging out from Eric's hold he made a move to run to the edges of the alley to further assess the situation. Eric caught up to him before he could turn the corner, yanking him back via his wrist.

"Y'know, when it's the middle of the night and you hear two angry shinigami, it's not a good idea to jump out from the shadows." Eric teased, letting go of Alan and jumping up to the rooftop of the bakery they were hiding behind. Alan followed, looking down at the two shinigami in the street in alarm.

"Shouldn't we interrupt?"

"Nah, they've needed to get this out a while. But in the middle of the street?" Eric whistled, more than surprised when the two shinigami arguing below didn't notice.

"Are you sure we shouldn't interrupt? Mr Sutcliff seems very…" He trailed off.

"Agitated?" Eric offered, but Alan shook his head.

"Not what I was going to say, but fitting." Eric grinned at that, shaking his head at Alan.

"You really-" The rest of his reply was cut off by the argument escalating below to something much more dangerous than it should have been.

To keep him out of the immediate danger zone, Eric pulled a surprised Alan back out of sight.

* * *

><p>He'd hardly ever regretted something.<p>

It simply wasn't in him. He would do something wrong, file it away as incorrect and then move on, accepting something as part of the past and willing to learn from the odd mistake. He didn't see the point of dwelling on something if it hindered his work.

But standing in the kitchen of his home, leaning against a counter, William realised that the coiling, sickening feeling in his stomach was regret.

As much as he hated to admit it, William was regretting letting Grell walk out the front door.

But really, what could he do? He was caught in the middle of a ridiculous love triangle; any action he took would ultimately break one rule or another. He could leave it all alone and wish for it to go away, and it would still find a way to break as many rules as possible. William knew he had to make a choice, and he had to do it quickly. Either Grell would go and do something drastic, or Ronald would mess something up terribly and William would be left to pick up those pieces.

Why was he debating this? The logical and safest choice would be for him to turn to the hard working, careful Ronald. Grell was unpredictable, fiery, dramatic, careless and occasionally downright lazy.

"Honestly, why am I even _bothering _to debate this?"

He would _always _choose Grell. The redhead was the whirlwind that messed everything up and managed to drag him into everything, and during the academy day's part of him had loved it. Even now, with the occasional mishaps and over-the-top touches of drama, it didn't bother him.

Knowing that a part of him might regret it if facing an angry Grell, William pocketed his keys and followed the redhead.

It had started raining heavily by the time that he'd found Grell –he hadn't ran after the redhead, after all, merely strode – and it took several moments before Grell was aware of his presence. Grell didn't turn around, but clenched his fists tightly. He was soaked to the bone, hair limp with beads of water dripping off him. William fared no better.

"I'm tired, Will…" Grell's voice was strained, as though he were forcing the words to come out calmly. Now that he was actually here, William didn't know what to say. He simply didn't know how to reconcile with Grell in the state he was.

"I know." It was all he could say, but the response of the redhead was a stamp of a heel on the cobbled road.

"No, you don't. I used to dream, back in the Greek branch, that you'd come storming in and demand I be transferred to your branch. Such wonderful dreams, my very own Romeo~!" Grell spun on his heel, fists brought up to his chest with a Cheshire cat grin on his face.

"Really?" In all honesty, William wasn't surprised. It was in the redhead's nature to be a terrible romantic at heart. And, as the grin on his face fell rather quickly into a scowl, William remembered that it was also in his nature to have massive mood swings.

"Yes, Will! But you didn't turn up. Nothing did, remember? No letters, no notes, not even a scrap of parchment on a pigeon's leg!"

"I didn't have the _time_-"

"Of course you didn't, Will." Grell rolled his eyes, squinting every now and then when water dripped from his hair into his eyes. "Why did you even follow me?"

Despite the sense of urgency in the redhead's voice, William couldn't answer. He didn't know _how _to put his thoughts into words. Grell could portray all his feelings through as little as a sentence; it took him a large conversation to convey only one feeling, and it was generally annoyance. What he wanted to convey, he couldn't word it properly without finding a way to insult Grell.

"I cannot explain it." At those words, Grell started to pace, grin back on his face.

"Then I'll take a guess! Come to remind me to hand my paperwork in on time tomorrow? Perhaps you've come to tell me to make sure I come in on time?" As he spoke different reasons, he sarcastically ticked them off via his fingers. "Oh! Perhaps you've come to tell me _all _about your relationship with dear little Ronnie?"

"Incorrect, Grell." William answered quickly, seeing the madness behind the redhead's eyes as he worked himself up into a frenzy.

"Oh? Well then, Will, I guess I'll have to find out in a different way!" Grell giggled, voice rising in pitch as he spun around from his pacing to fully face William, a wicked and insane grin on his face. He looked menacing, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight as the sound of a motor filled the street. The red chainsaw roared to life, blade spinning with the owner ceasing his giggles at the sound. William paused, cautious but wondering just what the redhead would do. Grell wouldn't attack him, would he?

The answer it seemed, as the blade was swung towards him, was _yes_.


	9. Revelations

**A/N**: Hey! Here's the next chapter – enjoy (: To clear up the bit of confusion around the last chapter: Eric and Alan's part takes place before and just after the timing of the Grell/William scene.

* * *

><p>He dodged.<p>

There was nothing else he could do. Fighting back would only result in an angry, _injured_ Grell, and would completely go against everything he was trying to convey. Fighting back would only give Grell the fuel to attack harder with more focus; at least with sloppy swings they were less likely to tear him apart.

Then again, having to roll sideways onto the floor to prevent his stomach being torn in two wasn't a nice alternative either. At least with focused swings the cuts wouldn't be jagged and painful.

Bringing his own scythe up, William quickly managed to stop a swing that was heading straight towards his neck; he liked his head _attached _to his neck, and wasn't very fond of the idea of Grell removing it. Grell froze when the swing was blocked, cocking his head to the side before another grin graced his face.

"No, no, no Will, you're supposed to let me find out your thoughts myself! This is cheating!" Then the grin turned into a vicious scowl, Grell pulling the chainsaw back to ready it for another swing. "And you know how much I hate cheating!" The blade was brought down with so much power behind it that William felt his elbow bend under the force, the spinning blade stopping inches in front of his face. Grell gave a noise of frustration, however the distraction gave William enough time to move out of the way and get back on his feet again.

"Grell, you need to calm down." William warned, ducking and attempting to swipe the redhead's legs out from under him as Grell swung the chainsaw towards him again. He managed to only slash at the laces on the redhead's heels. Grell stamped his foot.

"Hey, do you have any idea how much these shoes cost me!" Grell complained, eyes narrowing again as he lunged forward. The rain was still pounding down, and the wet road made the redhead slip. It helped William avoid the blade again, this time having it narrowly miss his arm from the elbow down.

"Stop _moving_!" Grell hissed through his teeth, spinning on the spot and lashing out with his scythe once more. Water from the redhead's long hair sprayed everywhere, distracting William momentarily and allowing the blade to nick at his shoulder. A few reels spilled from the contact, but his accelerated healing stopped any damage and further tapes from coming out. Grell swore, revving the motor of his saw once more before outright throwing it towards William.

"I don't give a damn about your blank reels; give me your _real _thoughts!" William didn't move until the blade was almost driving through his chest; he moved sideways at the last possible second and caught the chainsaw by the handle as it sped past him. Since it was not his scythe, however, Grell was able to summon it back to his own hands before William could properly calm the redhead down.

"Grell, _stop_." The tone of authority didn't work; it merely agitated the redhead more. Grell hissed over the sound of the chainsaw, muttering something unintelligible before he moved again, much faster than his previous movements.

Deciding that enough was enough, William blocked the attack with his own scythe before flicking his wrist and bringing the bottom of his scythe up into Grell's groin. Grell cursed, wincing and automatically slackening his grip on his chainsaw. William pulled it from the redhead's grip before he could recover, throwing it to the side and grabbing hold of Grell's wrists tightly. The hold was awkward, with William still holding his scythe as he held Grell's wrists in a tight grip. He dragged Grell closer to stop the redhead from begin able to drag _him _forward. Their breath mingled, both of them breathing heavily as William looked down at Grell and the redhead merely laughed.

"Aw, you nearly won, Will." Grell whispered, leaning in to brush his lips against William's cheek. William frowned, wondering if Grell was up to something. The thought provided a distraction long enough for Grell to bring his knee up to meet William's abdomen. William flinched, letting go of Grell completely. Grell gripped William's scythe, hopping backwards and giggling before swinging it. The tip of the blade connected with William's ribs, ripping through layers of fabric and skin and causing intense pain for William. It wouldn't kill him, but it was the correct cut if Grell wanted to view more than half of his record.

He'd been beaten_ and_ wounded with his own scythe.

Reels upon reels of cinematic record flew out towards Grell, curling around the redhead as William's own soul became confused at the events surrounding its release.

"Ooh~ Now this is interesting. I've never had a soul do _this _before, Will!" Grell chirped, sifting through the reels and pulling the most recent ones towards him. "Ooh, the record of you that concerns me. I think I'll take a little look, hmm?" Grell opened the record, becoming absorbed in the contents as William could only watch the redhead sift through his best kept quiet thoughts and memories.

Days in the academy were the first to fly through the record, prompting a frown from Grell on some of the images and a blush from others. Grell sped the record up, flicking through to the last five years of William's life as a Shinigami and focusing intently on most of the thoughts that were spilling from the record. William merely watched as his silent loneliness and disappointment shone through the record, gradually changing into unspoken desires once Grell himself re-entered the reel. Grell froze as frustrated and confused thoughts flowed through surrounding him and Ronald, before the thoughts all blurred through into one colour; a final decision and the reason William followed him.

Red.

Snapped back to his senses by what he was seeing, Grell all but forced the reels back towards William. He winced outwardly as William's eyes widened in pain, the reels disappearing but the wound on his side bleeding heavily as it tried to heal itself. Grell dropped to his knees when William stumbled to the floor, gripping his arms and attempting to make the taller man look at him. Water seeped to his knees through his trousers; the rain was still coming down heavily.

"Will, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me… I'm sorry; is that wound going to heal or do I need to take you to the-"

"_Quiet_, Grell." William warned, flinching when Grell ripped the bottom of his shirt along the hem and then tied it tightly around William's torso over his shirt to stop the bleeding.

"Did you really decide to pick me?" Grell's voice was quiet, hard to be heard over the rain hitting the cobblestones. Grell leant forward to properly tie the fabric, slipping in between William's knees and unconsciously getting closer to his superior. William flinched, teeth gritting before he shook his head.

"There wasn't…" William trailed off, unable to push past his pride and admit exactly what it was he wanted to say. There was a look of hurt on Grell's face; he seemed overly confused after William had shaken his head at his question. "Grell, I didn't_ choose_ you; there was never a choice." The words came out just as William himself loosened the fabric as his ribs began to heal.

"What?" Grell was surprised; that hadn't been the answer he'd been expecting, and he wanted to make sure he'd heard it properly. William gave him an annoyed look.

"I refuse to repeat myself." Grell giggled, finding the sight of a sopping wet, thoroughly annoyed William sitting in the middle of a road completely hilarious.

Then, only with their closer proximity and Grell's madness having disappeared, they noticed just how close they were to each other. Carefully, mindful of the fact that he might end up getting skewered after injuring William, Grell closed the distance between them and connected their lips.

He expected to be smacked up the head or thrown to the side by William; he certainly wasn't expecting William to tense up momentarily before a gloved hand reached up to the nape of his neck and pulled him closer. Grell could only grin like a fool, practically _feeling _the annoyance from William when he pulled back.

"My, my, Will, in public, and in the rain, too? And not a care for the rules, either!" He gave a grin, watching as William shifted to help his wound heal quicker before catching Grell's gaze again.

"Quiet, Sutcliff. You're in no position to complain." The redhead repressed his smirk as he caught William in another kiss, no longer caring about the rain or the cold road beneath them.

Especially not when William pushed him down onto it.

* * *

><p>"Well, guess what <em>we <em>did last night." Eric's voice broke through the comfortable silence surrounding the two Shinigami sitting at the coffee table in the lounge area. Alan looked up at his partner, eyes showing confusion as the blond sat down on the settee next to him. Ronald didn't look up from the papers he was checking through.

"Each other?" He asked, snickering as he looked up to see Alan turning a pretty shade of pink and picking up his mug of coffee to try and hide it. Eric laughed, shaking his head.

"Would I divulge that information to you, kid? Nah, I'm talking about Grell and the tight arse in the office." Eric leant back in the chair, lazily wrapping an arm around Alan's shoulders. The brunette shook his head at Ronald's inquisitive look.

"What he means is that last night, we were out for a walk when we came across Mr Sutcliff and William having an argument in the middle of the street. A small fight broke out, William got injured, and the rest is unimportant." Alan took a sip from his mug, shifting so that he didn't seem to be leaning on Eric as much as he was.

"Like death it isn't!" Eric seemed to miss the sly warning look that Alan gave him, and didn't notice the glimmer of hesitation in Ronald's eyes.

"What happened?" The blond asked, leaning forward on his seat to look at the two Shinigami before him. Eric grinned.

"We couldn't see most of it very well, but they just started kissing in the middle of the street –damn, Alan, your elbows are _bony_- going at it like rabbits!" Ronald's eyes widened at that, completely confused until Alan took over.

"He's exaggerating. They had a kiss or two in the street before they left. You know how William is; talking about policies and the law in the middle of such a moment." Alan shook his head with a small smile, wary of what Ronald's reaction might be. To his credit, Ronald managed to plaster a smile on his face despite the inner conflicting feelings of confusion and hurt going on.

Had he ever really stood a chance?

"Haha, typical boss then, huh?" Ronald gave a smart laugh, freezing mid-smile when the doors to the lounge opened and Grell walked in for his shift. Grell gave the three of them a tired wave, moving through the lounge with his chainsaw over his shoulder as he moved to the large glass double doors that he had to pass through to get to his particular division. His walk was the same as it usually was, carefree with hips swinging; the only change was a subtle, almost unnoticeable limp that couldn't be detected unless they were to look for it. Ronald, Eric and Alan all noticed it. Eric slapped his own thigh and started to laugh once Grell had gone through the doors. Ronald looked anywhere but at the two shinigami before him, and Alan gave him a pitiful look. Without even looking up, Ronald complained.

"Alan, stop giving me that look." His tone was odd, veering close to sulking child who hadn't gotten what he'd wanted. Eric raised an eyebrow, utterly confused before he realised that there was a _reason _Alan had been subtly elbowing him in the side when he'd been talking.

"Ronald? Perhaps you should take the rest of the day off?"

"I'm fine. S'not like I had a chance anyway, right? Say, have you seen Patricia lately-"

"Ronald, stop trying to deny that you're not-"

"I'm _fine_."

The argument erupted from there, with Ronald acting highly unusual and Alan getting steadily wound up before Eric stopped it. Ronald paused when Eric pulled them both away from each other from where they had gotten up into each others faces, seeming like he'd been pulled from a daze. He frowned, looking awkward before muttering a quick apology and leaving the building before anything else could escalate. Eric forced Alan to sit down before he started having an attack, rubbing his hands up the brunette's arms to calm him.

"Eric, I'm not made of glass! Go after him and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid!" Alan held back a cough, watching Eric's face as he seemed torn between making sure Alan was alright and listening to the brunette.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Alan rolled his eyes, giving Eric a smile.

"I'm perfectly fine. Now please." He beckoned to the door which Ronald had left through, prompting a sigh and a lazy grin from Eric.

"Alright, I'm going. You owe me, though!" Eric gave him a quick, tender kiss before standing up straight and picking his scythe up from where it was leaning against the settee.

Slinging it over his shoulder, Eric left in the direction of the other blond.


	10. Signing

**A/N**: Hey! Here's the next chapter! The bit in between Ronald leaving in the last chapter and the start of this chapter is in the sister-fic Untouchable, in case you're all interested in reading it.

Ooh, and something else! (This may be a bit random.) When at a con a few weeks back, I got talking to a Kuroshitsuji cosplayer who'd heard of me on here and had read Problematic, and I thought it was really nice to talk to a reader of one of my stories in person! This weekend I'm travelling up to Nemacon, so if anyone who reads this is attending and spots me (I'll be in normal clothing, sadly, with a tag with a drawing on) please come and chat! 8D

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><p>William shuffled the reports around on his desk, ignoring the incessant tapping that seemed to be filtering through his thoughts from an annoying background noise to a potential distraction. He lasted several more minutes, signing and approving papers and forms before a particularly loud tap caused the nib of his quill to break and the ink to spread over the paper he'd been signing. Shaking his head calmly, William folded the paper up and deposited it in the bin next to his desk, ignoring the strong scent of spilt ink. Finally, after another loud tap, he looked up.<p>

"Slingby, is there a particular _reason _you happen to be sitting opposite my desk and tapping it with the end of your scythe?" William asked, folding his arms. Eric looked contemplative for a moment before his face blanked.

"Nope." The answer was quick and straightforward, and Eric resumed his tapping of the desk with his saw. William sighed.

"Then could you please leave?" William asked, sitting forward and placing his hands on the desk. Eric gave him another sarcastic contemplative look.

"…Nope." With that, Eric gave him a polite smile and resumed his tapping. William gritted his back teeth, eyes on the blond before he stood up and walked around the desk. Gripping the back of Eric's chair, William pulled it out from under him and sent the reaper to the floor. The tapping ceased.

"What are you trying to do, Eric?" Eric stood up immediately, dusting himself off and sending his scythe away before pacing back and forth in the office.

"Ever been annoyed, boss?"

"I'm getting annoyed right now, Slingby."

"I've been up the full night. Haven't got any sleep, boss." Eric stopped his pacing, looking at William carefully with a sly grin on his face. William could tell immediately that the man had had a lack of sleep; there were dark circles under his eyes and his eyes seemed bloodshot.

"That was unwise." William commented, going to sit back down in his seat. Eric stepped closer to the desk, leaning against it and looking down at William.

"It was necessary."

"Elaborate."

"How shall I do that, boss? Let's see; I spent the first half of the night chasing that kid in the offices around London before I dropped him off in a tavern in the middle of London." Eric started, crossing his arms and starting to pace through the room again. William watched him carefully, one eyebrow rising.

"I had wondered why Mr Knox was rather distracted this morning. It did not occur to me that he may have had a hangover."

"He's distracted?" At Eric's question, William moved to the window and turned the blinds slightly so that Eric could see what he had been witnessing the entire morning. Ronald was sitting at his desk, leaning forward with his head in his hands and a scowl on his face. William was certain that, if that glare could kill, the paperwork on the desk would be nothing more than little curls of burnt paper.

"Odd that you would notice that, Boss." Eric commented, pulling his hip flask from his pocket and taking a quick swig. William glanced sideways to Eric, one eyebrow raised.

"It is merely a rare thing to not see Ronald Knox with a smile on his face. I had been under the impression that it had been permanently etched on his face. And I am certain that it is against the rules for you to consume alcohol in the office, Slingby." William answered quietly, turning the blinds again so that, although they could both see out, no one could see into the office.

"Odd for you, because you had conflicting feelings." Eric muttered slyly, a smirk on his face.

"Do not be presumptuous, Eric Slingby. I have no feelings for any of my workers." At William's words, Eric gave a laugh and walked to the other side of the room.

"Oh, come off it boss. We all knew you carried a torch for _someone_, and that Ronald was the substitute for your feelings." William glanced behind him to look at Eric, watching as the blond picked up an apple and started to throw it up in the air. William kept his face straight, clasping his hands behind his back and looking out across the desks of his workers.

"I didn't want to let go." The words were quiet, stiff and bare of any emotion, but the words alone were enough to make Eric look up. Even with no emotion in the voice, it had to be difficult for William admit something like that.

"Let go of _who_?" Eric asked, taking a bite from the apple and leaning against the wall. He was curious.

"Grell. I tried to find a way to stop him from going to Greece, but I couldn't do anything about it. The same goes for when he arrived there, however I was not in a position high enough to request the transfer of another shinigami. But even then, I did not, maybe even _could not_, let go. I did not mean for Ronald to get roped up into this." The tone of William's voice didn't change, and if it weren't for the slightest, almost unnoticeable change in William's stature, Eric wouldn't have believed him.

"Too late for him now, boss." Eric moved closer to the window, watching Ronald from the office and seeing Alan approach him. Ronald gave the brunette a small smile as they spoke.

"I had no idea he would embed himself so deeply into something such as this."

"Disaster from the start, eh? But it's Ronald; he'll wake up tomorrow completely head over heels for someone's secretary." Eric leant against the glass, smiling to himself as Alan and Ronald both started to laugh at the blond's desk.

"Indeed." William observed as Eric made to leave, tucking his flask back inside his pocket and pausing at the door. Turning back with a grin on his face, he nodded his head in William's direction.

"Boss; forget I have alcohol on my person, and I'll conveniently forget that little heartfelt confession you just gave me." Eric was halfway out the door, eyes on William as the darker haired man turned and shot him a vicious look.

"Out."

"I'll take that as a yes!" Eric gave a chuckle as he shut the door behind him, and William ignored the comment in favour of sitting back down at his desk.

Deep down, he sincerely hoped that Ronald Knox would quickly recover from the let down; a small part of him did enjoy those coffee mornings every Thursday.

And the next day, despite Grell's initial slight annoyance at the situation and Ronald's embarrassment, the two of them still turned up for their coffee morning.

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><p>"You need to move."<p>

"Why~?" Grell's voice was slightly high pitched in a whine as he sat on the edge of William's desk, red hair pooling over the paperwork and the sheet William was writing on. As an answer, William looked down to where he'd been writing. The words had odd white stripes through them, as if there had been no ink there in the first place. Giving a noise of annoyance and standing away from the desk, Grell examined the ends of his hair. "Will! You got ink on my hair!"

"Grell…" William started patiently. "I need to work, and you are-"

"Mr Spears, Mr Spears!" The door to his office flew open, an employee from the records department starting to run in only to be stopped by the rebounding door hitting him square in the face. Grell collapsed into giggles, whereas William stood up from his seat and placed his hands on the desk, eyes towards the door as the employee recovered.

"Is there a reason you are charging into my office like a wild animal?" William asked, harsh tone in his voice as he noticed that, in his haste to stand up properly, he had knocked the ink vial over. His hands were wet with dark blue ink, setting the man into a fouler mood as the employee stopped short before his desk.

"I, um… Yes sir."

"Is it important?" William asked the man as he wiped his hands with a cloth he had in one of his desk drawers. Grell watched the employee shrink under William's gaze, stifling a laugh behind the back of his hand.

"I… no, sir."

"Then one would think you would understand the proper rules of conduct regarding storming into a superior's office unannounced. Now, if you could kindly tell me why you are here?" Grell, who had been successful in hiding his grin from William, promptly broke at the look on the poor man's face as he seemed to suffer under William's 'polite' glare.

"You need to sign this, sir." The employee handed William a slip of parchment, face draining of colour as William's eyebrow twitched. The employee was _well _aware that he'd been partly responsible for the ink spill. William took the slip, face still neutral but with his cold eyes sending daggers to the young shinigami before him.

"Why does the head of records need my permission to allow the visitor from the northern branch access to our record library?" William asked, suspicious with the quill hovering over the parchment. The employee gulped when William's eyebrow twitched again.

"Head of the association has gone to the Wales department for the day, sir."

"Ah, yes. If that happens, all his duties are passed onto me, yes? Very well. Do I need to go and meet with this visitor beforehand?"

"No, sir. The man says that the director knew he was coming anyway." The shinigami gave a nod as he spoke, watching William sign the parchment and taking it back carefully, as though William might strike him with his scythe if he stepped out of line or took it too quickly. William watched the man leave, frowning when the door was shut quickly and Grell retook his place at the edge of William's desk. The redhead whistled.

"You have got to teach me how to do that."

"Elaborate."

"Strike fear into someone's heart with the simple twitch of an eyebrow!" Grell flipped his hair over his shoulder, grinning when the soft tresses brushed against the other man's face. William gave a sigh of annoyance.

"It is not a parlour trick, Grell. But he seemed too…" William trailed off, trying to find a word to describe the shinigami who had just entered.

"Twitchy?" Grell offered, inspecting the nails on one hand as another hand moved to curl around William's tie.

"Suspicious." William finished, removing Grell's hand from his clothing and standing up to move around his office. Several minutes passed; William attempting to find more ink from several drawers and Grell attempting to put off doing his own paperwork for as long as possible. They were quiet, a calm atmosphere in the room before it was broken by the sound of telltale oxford shoes bouncing off the marble floors towards his office. The door was pushed open, Ronald entering with his hair messy and slightly out of breath.

"Boss, what did you just _do_?"


	11. Chaos

**A/N**: Hey! Here's the next chapter! Oh, and to the person who asked in a review (I couldn't answer it since it wasn't signed); I'd be honoured if you did fanart on the stories! 8D

A note to mention; the story's current date is the middle of 1880 – Grell's been there over a year now, just in case the time gaps weren't that noticeable xD Also, 'Coopered' is also 19th century British slang for 'bloody' in case anyone gets confused; took me a while to figure it out, so thought I'd note it!

Finally (I swear!), I'm a bit iffy about the end of this chapter; I'm not sure if I've created a believable scenario; if so, anyone pointing it out would be great and I'll attempt to change their interactions whilst still making it somewhat believable.

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><p>They'd been dressing when the message came.<p>

In all honesty, although Alan seemed to be outright terrified at the message, Eric was simply glad that the Shinigami messenger hadn't come half an hour earlier. Poor Alan would probably have never gotten over the shock. Heck, he was still beetroot red at being caught half-dressed, with his face in the crook of Eric's neck, in the middle of attempting to get Eric to stop getting _dressed_.

"This can't be good."

"Really? I think it's all milk and cookies and fairy dust." Eric joked, doing his buttons up and pulling his belt through his trouser loops. Alan scowled, searching for his tie clasp and ignoring Eric's words. The blond leaned forward, planting a kiss on the corner of Alan's mouth before throwing the brunette his clasp from out of his pocket.

"And here I thought you'd thrown it on the floor."

"And risk you stopping that _delightful_-" Eric was silenced by Alan's lips on his own, the brunette preferring to silence the man quickly rather than have him finish that sentence. With Eric's distraction, Alan tightened the blond's tie before pulling away with a grin, the blush that had been on his face gone completely.

"I'd rather you didn't finish that." Alan gave an impish smile as he tugged on his shoes, hopping around the room whilst trying to simultaneously find his gloves from one of the bedside tables. "I was supposed to have the day off, too." Alan glanced behind him to Eric, seeing the blond throw him a cocky grin.

"If you're that bothered, you can tell the demon that and he might just leave. I'm sure if you stress your circumstances he'll go without a fuss." Eric's voice was dripping with sarcasm, prompting Alan to throw a pillow at his face.

"No, I think William likes slave labour a bit too much." The words were out before he could stop them, and the man's partner started to laugh loudly as they pulled on their suit jackets.

"I was talking about the _actual _demon, not our charming boss." Alan flushed when he realised what he'd said, and jabbed Eric in the side as he walked past him.

"This is _your _influence."

"Trust me, Alan, if it was _my _influence, you'd have started cussing and being sarcastic _way _back." Eric tugged the brunette closer, only to jump and let go when the messenger banged on the door again.

"Sirs, you have to hurry!" The voice was muffled through the door, and Alan threw one of his gloves at it in annoyance.

"Now, now, don't hate the poor door. We'd best get going before that messenger soils his drawers." Eric winked as he spoke, leading the way out of the bedroom and through the house.

"You're terrible." Alan muttered under his breath as they left the house, the messenger a few steps behind them. Eric tossed him another grin, allowing Alan to grip his elbow as they transported away, completely forgetting about the messenger.

They transported right into the middle of utter _chaos_.

* * *

><p>"Seal those doors, and for <em>goodness sake<em> make sure you do so properly." William's orders were sharp and loud, being fired at every other employee who was in his line of sight as they scuffled around the soul record library. Grell was standing in front of a massive steel door, one ear pressed to it as he moved around attempting to find a crack or small hole he could thrust his chainsaw into. William saw him, and promptly shook his head in annoyance. "Sutcliff, away from that door."

"But Will, if I could just find a hole, or-"

"It's a metre thick; you won't find any hole that won't tear apart your toy before you make any real progress." William answered quickly, stressed and feeling pushed to his limits as Shinigami ran around in panic. A young woman moved up to him, muttering something hurriedly into his ear. William narrowed his eyes. "The other four department leaders have been found unconscious and half dead?" The female shinigami nodded. "And no one, throughout the entire building, noticed that four department leaders seemed to have dropped down onto their desks?" A shake of the head this time, accompanied with the young woman stepping backwards warily. William rubbed at his temples.

"Ooh, not good, not good at all~" Grell chirped in, leaving the door alone and standing next to William. The darker haired of the two gave a frustrated sigh.

"Incompetent fools. Where's Knox?" At the question, a hand shot up in the moving throng of Shinigami, the blond in question popping his head up and pushing his way towards William.

"Here, boss!" Grell moved to help pull him through, the two of them exchanging an awkward smile before Ronald straightened his jacket and gave a mock salute.

"I need you to go get the London Undertaker. Quickly." William gave a nod as he spoke; Ronald frowned before nodding and transporting out to the general area of London. Grell watched him go before giving William a confused look.

"Why did you send him to the Undertaker? Surely he'd be needed here, right?" Grell slung his chainsaw over his shoulder, eyes scrutinising William as he started to bark orders at everyone around them. Those who were ordered to left to do other important things to help the situation.

"You're both some of my strongest Shinigami. I need to keep at least one of you alive should the worst happen." At those words, Grell gave a mock cry of hurt.

"And you didn't want to keep _me_ safe?"

"I could drag you to the Undertaker by your hair and lock you in a coffin, and you would still find a way to get back here." William spoke quickly, without even batting an eyelid as he took a step towards the door.

"Touché." Grell followed, cocking his head to the side as he watched William's face. "So, why do we need the Undertaker here?"

"Have you ever been told the methods of creating demons?" When Grell shook his head, William continued. "There's so many ways to do it; one such way is rather simple to do. They can warp a perfectly preserved soul into a demon from the record book alone."

"So we have a few dozen baby demons to deal with. I don't understand why there's such a massive fuss over this." Grell commented, examining his nails but standing oddly close to William. Just as William was about to answer, he heard sounds of surprise as Eric and Alan transported right into the middle of the room, having caught the back end of the conversation. Eric gave a grim smile.

"Ah, but Grell, you don't know what's behind that door now, do you?" Eric stepped up next to the redhead, Alan behind him as Eric gave the door a solid thump with his saw.

"More souls?"

"Precisely. The souls of Queen 'bloody' Mary, King Henry, Genghis Khan and Ivan the Terrible, amongst others, all kept in that room because it's one of the safest in the world. The strongest, boldest souls to have graced the earth with their _charming_ presence, all locked in one little room." Eric's grim smile widened slightly at his own words. Grell raised an eyebrow.

"Then why don't we just go in there now and _stop _the demon?" Grell asked, eyes on William. It was Alan who answered for the taller man, who seemed to be busy thinking.

"It's locked from the inside."

"Transport in!" Grell half-yelled, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Alan shook his head.

"Physically impossible for most people. You need either the permission of the Director and the person directly beneath him in authority, or permission from the latter and at least one other department head. If we don't have their permission, then it's impossible to get in unless the door is opened."

"Don't be ridiculous! If that's the case, how on earth did the demon get in?" Grell asked, revving his chainsaw as he stared at the door.

"That's a good question, actually." Eric murmured, looking towards William.

"The other four department heads were found unconscious in their offices. The Director is in Wales. I am assuming that one of them signed the form in the belief that I had already given my consent, before the shinigami with the form had to try and find out one by one which one of us was below the Director regarding the chain of command." William, scythe in hand, examined the door more carefully, face stern as Grell moved in front of him to give him a wary look.

"Then why weren't you knocked out?" Eric asked, swinging his saw over his shoulder and grinning at Alan when it narrowly avoided the small brunette.

"Sutcliff was in my office at the time I signed the form. An attack would only serve to raise suspicion." William shook his head, eyes switching between the door and the three Shinigami near him. Eric shook his head when he saw William's face turn completely and sternly neutral.

"Boss, you're supposed to reap souls, not offer your own up for extermination."

"What's he talking about?"

"Grell, lower your voice or I will have you escorted out." William warned, watching as Grell harrumphed and shifted his weight to one leg, arms crossing over his chest.

"No." Grell frowned, wanting to know exactly what was going on. He felt like an unwilling smuggler in the underworld; told only the bare bones and nothing more than strictly necessary.

"It's protocol. I will not break the rules because one of my workers decides to throw a tantrum in the middle of a crisis." William continued, ignoring Grell's heavy sigh and lowered red eyebrows.

"_What _is protocol?" When William ignored him and flipped through his ledger, Eric threw the answer in for him.

"Only six people can go into that room without permission. Four are unconscious, one is in Wales, and the sixth one is him. You can guess the rest." Even Eric looked uneasy as he lazily wrapped an arm around Alan's shoulders. William, straight-laced as ever, didn't change his expression as he tucked his ledger away and glanced to the three of them.

"When I open the door, I want the three of you to prepare for the demons to come _out_. I don't want a single one of you entering." At that, Grell's face fell into a rather disturbing look that made him look half-insane. William had to refrain from rolling his eyes at the ridiculousness of it.

"Are you out of your mind? You'll get yourself killed!"

"Nonsense. I am perfectly capable of opening a door from the inside. You are merely being melodramatic. Stop acting as if I will not come back from that room." William tightened his hold on his scythe, voice harsh and sharp. Grell took a step back as William nodded to Eric, not looking at the redhead in case he ended up hitting the man to keep him cam. Eric gripped Grell's arm, his height giving him the upper hand as he pulled Grell back. The redhead gave a huff of annoyance.

"Asshole. Let go of me, _now_." His chainsaw was in his hand as Eric only tightened his grip and Grell attempted to pull himself free. "William, you coopered idiot!" Eric raised his eyebrow at this, turning slightly to glance at the redhead with a small, grim smile on his face.

"Forgot you were a member of the common British Society, Sutcliff."

Grell gave a toothy, sweet grin before he sharply pushed his elbow up, out of Eric's hold and straight into the man's nose. Eric swore, letting go of Grell. The redhead launched himself towards William, determined to at least end up accidentally transporting into the room with him.

He grasped only wisps of air as his superior disappeared from his sight.


	12. Inside

**A/N**: Hey, here's the next chapter. Has anyone seen the second part of the Ciel in Wonderland OVA? (I know, it's been out a while, but I only just got around to watching it.) I loved William's smile as the March Hare, even if he was taking the mick out of Ciel xD The smile and giggle was just so… strangely adorable and creepy.

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><p>It was dark.<p>

There'd never been a reason to light up the back room of the Shinigami records sector. It was off limits to almost everyone; there shouldn't have been a reason to set up candles and torches for visitors.

Hiding behind one large shelf, William made a mental note to change that. He could sense at least three demons in the room; two held a weak aura, whilst another gave off a pulsating, strong aura that made William feel slightly alarmed. He could only hope that the buzzing auras of the Shinigami _outside _the room hid his own presence from the newest demons. His insides crawled, his senses going into overload; being in the mere presence of a demon brought about the instinct to lash out and _protect_; it was the same for all Shinigami. The air around him smelt stale, the original smell of parchment from fake books to put off intruders nearly completely dispersed as the scent of burning coal and wood filtered through the air.

With his eyes adjusting to the darkness, William was able to make out the general silhouettes of the three demons. One was in a corner with the two newest ones surrounding it. His only problem was that they were very, very close to the door. The chances of him managing to open it without getting caught were very slim, considering he needed his identity card to open one of the mechanical locks, and it needed to be inserted at the right angle to push apart the tumblers that helped it stay secure.

Resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to fight in one way or another, William unclipped his ID badge and ran his fingers along the edge of it. His badge, much different from every other Shinigami due to its other purpose, had several extra sharp, thin bits of plastic coming off from it. When dragged along one of the several locks on the door, the longer parts on his card slit through four tumblers and pulled them apart, disposing of the lock and allowing the door to be pushed outwards. The sliding of the locks alone would be enough to draw attention, and if it didn't then the clicking of the other locks would be sure to announce his presence for him.

William transported, ending up almost completely pressed against the large door. Placing his scythe down on the floor silently, he gave an inward wince as he hovered one hand over the pull lock and another over the lock that required his card. Concurrently, he swiped the card through the lock and wrenched at the simple metal one. Several clicks echoed through the air, and before William had a chance to move he was pinned against the wall with long fingernails scratching at his neck. Giving a cough of disgust at the smell and the very idea that a _demon _was touching him, William locked eyes with the demon.

Never, in all his years as a Shinigami, did William think he would ever find himself staring into the soulless eyes of Napoleon Bonaparte.

With his knees buckled from the impact of being shoved against the wall, William was on the same height level as the demon. Raising an eyebrow, William couldn't believe he was about to try a distraction that Grell had taught him during their academy days; he doubted it would work, but it was worth a try.

"You're quite short, aren't you? Even by demonic standards, you're a midget." William was thankful that there were no other Shinigami in hearing range; to be heard saying that in such a naïve tone was mortifying enough in the presence of demons. It worked, however, as the demon cocked his head to the side in what William could only call post-transformation fury. The look behind the hungry red eyes was daunting, but William paid it no mind as his scythe was summoned from its place on the floor into William's hand. He was thankful for the length of it as he swung it into the jaw of the demon. There was a crack and, after he whacked the demon again in the same place, the likely unhinging of a jaw. A well placed stab to the abdomen and Napoleon was left stuck in Limbo, his cinematic record spilling out for William to judge quickly and stuff –rather unceremoniously- onto the nearest shelf to be destroyed completely.

Moving as quickly and as quietly as he could, William reached the door again at the same moment that he felt another demonic presence come into being. Chills ran down his spine, although he paid it no heed as he twisted the dial on the glowing combination lock. It clicked open as nails scraped along the back of his neck, a hand grabbing the scruff of his collar and pulling him backwards. William didn't turn around properly to face the attacking demon; instead he pushed the end of his scythe backwards to alarm the demon and pushed forward out of the grasp.

He managed to enter the second code in for the glowing fourth lock with frightening speed, turning in time to dodge a kick from the demon. The momentum of the demon's move meant that the demon fell forward; William used it to his advantage to move behind the demon and drag his scythe across its throat.

Only when he glanced at the record did he realise he'd just re-killed Alexander the Great.

"What a _waste _of a soul." He muttered, senses on full alert for the two other demons in the room. His heart dropped into his stomach when he realised that the final lock needed to be picked. He needed time and full concentration to pick it without his keys, and that was something he couldn't afford to do if he wanted to live to see another day.

William looked up at the door, knowing full well that Grell was likely on the other side of the metre thick door, trying to hear what was going on inside. His lips twisted wryly as he turned to filter through the room with his senses, knowing he'd have to fight both demons to be able to unlock the door. William planned to take out the one who was constantly creating the demons first, and then deal with the newborn later.

That plan shattered, however, when his senses recognised a further two more demons in the room, putting two on either side of him and two in front. Through the darkness he vaguely made out their silhouettes, this time with a female demon joining their midst. He wracked through his mind to try and remember which females had had their soul and Cinematic Records locked in the room. It was pointless to try and remember, as two sets of hands grabbed him before he could move or attack. With his arms constricted and being surrounded by four demons, William knew he had no chance of getting out alive.

In a rather morbid and uncharacteristic fashion, William wondered what the other Shinigami would find when they finally managed to open the door. It would be a colourful mess, no doubt about it. Being torn into pieces was messy business and, from what he'd heard, rather painful.

He truly hoped that his successor would be competent enough to handle the division he'd spent years curbing into obedience.

Struggling, but not managing to get any progress other than a wave of nausea at being so close to the demons, William felt the sharp, stabbing pain of long and dark fingernails being dragged across his side. The nails cut through his suit jacket and his blouse, and William didn't need to feel the second wave of sickness as dark, wispy coils of blood from the demon seeped into his blood. The pain was instantaneous.

With his head feeling like it was splitting in two, William didn't notice the flash of silver whizz past him into the chest of the demon before him. He did notice the other demons moving backwards, although he was too busy trying to bite back the effects of a demons blood mixing with his own to really take much notice.

Quite suddenly, another hand grabbed the back of his collar, and William felt the floor disappearing beneath him as he was pulled up towards the top of a bookcase.

"Got you~"

* * *

><p>Honestly – and wasn't he starting to sound just like the boss? - why had they sent him for this? Ronald could only repeat the question over and over in his mind as he wandered the streets of London, attempting to find The Undertaker's shop. Of all the Shinigami on hand at the time, William had to have picked him to go and find the creepy mortician of which he had only ever heard rumours of. Having never seen The Undertaker before, much less visited the place, Ronald had accidentally transported several miles out of where the actual shop was.<p>

And of course, standing before the shop now, Ronald wondered if he had really found the right place. This man was supposed to be one of the greatest contacts in the London Underworld when it came to needing information; why did he chose to live in a dingy little shop such as this?

A young, friendly looking man walked out with a creepy 'Goodbye, _Lord_~' following him, and he tipped his hat to Ronald as he left. Dark, lightly-tinted hair framed overly bright chocolate eyes, and Ronald wondered why someone would leave the shop looking so _happy_. A man of the Underworld, maybe?

As Ronald pushed the door open, a bell tinkled above the door and the first thing the blond did was step on something that gave a sickening crunch under his shoes. Sincerely hoping it wasn't a human bone, Ronald looked around. The whole place was dusty, slightly wrecked and a complete mess considering it was a funeral home. Taking a few steps into the shop, the door slammed behind him and Ronald was greeted with the revelation that the entire scene seemed like something out of the horror books Eric would occasionally read.

Wondering if the scratches on one coffin in the far corner _really _spelt out 'Grell Sutcliff 1779', Ronald moved towards it, completely oblivious to the fact that the coffin behind him was opening. Before he registered the creak, one hand had shot around his mouth and another around his waist, dragging him backwards towards the coffin.

"Ooh, now what have we here? Snooping is rude, m'dear. I hope you know that." The hand around his mouth was removed, only for it to go rooting around his suit jacket pocket. The man holding him pulled out his identity card, spinning it around in long, spindly fingers before giving a giggle.

"Caught a young one, too. A Mister Ronald Knox!" Ronald was spun around quickly, and he found himself staring into the face of the Undertaker. At least, he hoped it was the face; it had a _mouth_, but the nose was barely visible and the eyes lost behind the long silvery-grey hair. And he'd seen some pretty weird stuff; for all he knew, that mouth could have actually been just one eye.

"The London Undertaker?" Ronald asked, edging out of the grip carefully and turning to face the man, completely ignoring the fact that he seemed to be sitting rather comfortably in a coffin.

"No, the London Chef." There was a creepy tone to the voice that had Ronald edging backwards and looking around the room again, one hand on the back of his neck and rubbing it nervously.

"I bet your customers probably _die _from the taste of your cooking, eh?" The blond was quite startled when The Undertaker gave a long, loud cackle at those words, climbing out the coffin and slapping him on the shoulder with a grin.

"Hehe~ I like you." The man moved to what Ronald could only guess was a desk, with a crooked, spindly chair in front of it. The Undertake sat on it, leaning backwards and placing the tips of his boots on the desk. Ronald moved closer to the desk, attempting to look professional; if he annoyed The Undertaker, William would likely string him up for it.

"There's a problem at the headquarters. I was sent to come and get you, sir!" Ronald gave a smile, which was reflected by The Undertaker as he folded his hands lazily over his chest.

"Bah, there's always a problem at headquarters. Get that twit Spears to sort it out." Ronald wasn't sure if The Undertaker was smiling with narrowed eyes or just smiling in general, and found himself wondering why he'd felt slightly nervous meeting this man. He figured that if _this _was amongst the greatest Shinigami to have graced the earth, then he couldn't _wait_ to meet the others.

"Mr. Spears _sent_ me, sir."

"I know. You're all running around in a silly scared way because a demon got into the most important vault in the country." The Undertaker gave a cackle of what Ronald would only call glee, shaking his head and giving a sigh. Ronald cocked his head to the side.

"How did you-" He didn't finish his question, as The Undertaker had leant forward and gripped his tie with those long fingers, dragging him forward into an awkward sort of bow. The Undertaker's face was centimetres away from his own as the man gave another grin.

"Listen, dearie, you don't need my help. They, however, might need _you_~" The Undertaker stood up, clambering over the table and steering Ronald towards the door; the blond squirmed at the feeling of those long nails in his shoulder.

"You're sending me back, alone?" At that, The Undertaker looked at him with a blank look for a moment before he gave a disturbing grin.

"Do you want to take one of my corpses with you?"

"_No!_ That's gross!"

"Then you're on your own, dearie. Now come on, shuffle along. I've a delivery from the hospital in a few minutes, and 'tis not pretty." Ronald heard in his head the unheard cackle from the man, and gave him a small smile and a nod.

Feeling slightly dejected and dreading what he'd see once he got back, Ronald left to try and help his boss.


	13. Falter

**A/N**: Hey, here's the next chapter! Reviews appreciated, as always :3

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><p>Never, at any point in his life, had William been more relieved at the overpowering scent of strawberries and vanilla essence than when it infiltrated his nose and hazed his senses in the vault. He would only ever associate that smell with one person, and although it was often strong, he was glad for it as it replaced the burning smell of the demons. Forcing his head to clear but still breathing the scent in, William forced his eyes to fully open despite the pain of the gouges in his side.<p>

"How did you get in here?" William asked quietly, voice made almost inaudible due to the revving of the chainsaw below. Whereas William seemed to be half sitting on the top of the bookshelf, Grell was crouching and looking down to the four demons below who were, rather strangely, attempting to pick up Grell's spinning chainsaw without cutting their hands off.

"Long story; tell you later- hey! Get off my scythe!" Grell summoned the whirring scythe back into his hands, revving it up again to its highest possible setting before aiming and throwing it back down. It completely skewered one demon, pinning her to a bookshelf and sending blood spattering everywhere as the blade chewed through her. Grell turned to William with a satisfied smile, before he roughly pulled William's shirt out from where it had been tucked into his trousers and ripped the bottom of it off. With frantic speed and a terrifying grin on his face, Grell wrapped the fabric around William's torso and tied it tightly, buttoning up the suit jacket and giving William a pat on the side.

"Cheers. But please, next time try not to be so messy." William motioned with his head the blood covered shelves below with a sputtering demon pinned to them. Grell shrugged.

"Dead is_ dead_~" William shook his head at the answer, noticing only then that Grell had his hair tucked away beneath a _bowler_ hat of all things.

"Why are you wearing a hat indoors?" Grell turned back to look at him at the question, distracted from watching the demons trying to pull his chainsaw from the other demon without killing him, and rolled his eyes.

"Eric told me to hide my hair else the smell and colour would get me caught~" With that, Grell jumped down to the floor, heel's clicking loudly on the tiles and dragging a dizzy William down with him. William managed to land gracefully despite his injury, and as he gripped his scythe tightly Grell all but sauntered towards the dying female demon and tugged his scythe out of her chest. Blood wiped onto his hands as he pulled at the blade, and with a shrug he rubbed it across her lips and forced her to look him in the eyes.

"You were better as a human, Queen Mary. Although I did admire your bloody pyres, you'd simply make an unwarranted mess in death and give me extra paperwork!" Grell's tone changed from soft to harsh and, with a trademark giggle, he sliced the demon's head from her shoulders and judged her soul without a second glance at the record. William chose to ignore the entire thing, only elbowing Grell in the side when the three other demons around them moved closer.

"We need to get to that door, quickly."

"How do we unlock the other locks?" Grell asked, revving his chainsaw up and brandishing it towards the closest demon.

"We need to pick the lock."

"You unpick it, I'll fight." Grell gave William a grin and pushed him towards the door, not giving the man a chance to argue back. William narrowed his eyes at Grell at this, pulling the redhead back by the back of his collar.

"Don't get overexcited. Remember your place and _don't _get cocky." Grell tossed him a wink, shaking his head before brandishing his chainsaw and leaving plenty of space for William to move to the door to pick the lock.

William immediately got to work, pulling three pieces of metal from a small slot in the door and twisting them around into hook shapes. Pushing one of them in to wrap around the back of the lock, William started to tap at the tumblers and lock them into place by pulling at the spring with the piece of metal. His concentration was broken twice; the first instance because Grell had decided to swing his chainsaw _towards _the door when attacking and had sent blood flying towards William's face. The second time he broke his concentration and nearly snapped the metal pieces was when he heard a slight whooshing sound accompanying several fast swings of the chainsaw, followed by the distinctive sound of limbs sliding to the floor and smacking loudly off the bloody and wet surface.

William truly felt a small amount of pity for whoever was tasked with cleaning the mess up.

Slowly, gradually, he felt the dark and filthy itch that signalled the demon's presence start to fade. Grell's slightly laboured breathing could be heard as the blades slowed down, and his heels clacked off the floor irregularly in a way that made William wonder if the redhead was swaying from exhaustion.

Quite suddenly – and likely unnoticeable by the redhead due to his fatigue- the demonic presence flared up mere seconds before the clicking of the lock could be heard to William's ears. He heard the blades of the chainsaw judder to a halt as the owner failed to realise the approaching demon. He felt the vibrations along the floor as something was flung towards one bookshelf and sent it crashing to the ground. Hoping it was the chainsaw or a demon and _not_ Grell –the paperwork that would come with a dead worker would be terrible, he insisted to himself- William freed the lock completely and turned, ready to defend or attack. There was silence in the room, broken only by the fluttering of falling paper and footsteps on the wet flooring.

The cry of pain that followed the silence could be heard on the other side of the door.

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><p>When Ronald transported back into the room outside the heavily locked vault, he had only seconds to observe the bustle of more Shinigami before he was grabbed and lifted a few feet off the floor by two burly, tall Shinigami males. He automatically struggled, kicking one of them in the leg and swearing when he hit solid muscle. The Shinigami who he'd kicked didn't even flinch, yet Ronald could already feel the pain aching in his toes.<p>

"What are you doing?" His voice was loud as he was carried off towards the eastern wall, where several other young Shinigami were lined off. A loud whistle cut through the air, similar to the sound an owner would make to get his dog's attention, and both his holders turned to face the source of the whistle.

In different directions.

With one turning clockwise and the other anti-clockwise, Ronald felt as though his arms were being torn off. They both realised their error and turned correctly, facing the man who had whistled at them.

"Oi! I said every Shinigami under thirty!" Eric's deep voice sent a rush of relief through Ronald, who looked at the other blond gratefully. The two Shinigami holding him cocked their heads to the side in confusion.

"This one _is _thirty." Ronald felt his own stomach drop when he noticed just how deep the voice of one of his captors was. If Eric managed to get them to let him go, he'd pray that he'd never have to hear it again.

"Technically I'm forty-nine-"

"-Yeah, and I said _under_ thirty. Let the damned kid go." Eric ignored Ronald's words and directed his own at the two Shinigami holding him. With matching huffs of disdain, Ronald was dropped unceremoniously to the floor and left there by the two men. Eric helped him up, making sure he could stand properly before leading him over to the area where Alan was standing.

"What's going on?" Ronald asked, stretching his arms and rubbing at his arm sockets to try and get rid of the ache in his arms. Eric gave a pause in his walk before answering.

"Not a lot of change since you left. Grell managed to tell us that the Shinigami who'd gotten the boss to sign the form was about twenty-five, so I made them guys collect every male Shinigami in their twenties and line them up against that wall."

"How did you get them to listen to you?" Ronald tightened his tie and pushed some of his hair out of his eyes, following Eric closely as they weaved about the soul library.

"I shoved a pole up my ass and acted like William." Eric teased, stopping next to a flustered and annoyed Alan and patting the brunette on the head to further annoy him.

"That's disgusting." Ronald commented regarding the pole joke, but Eric gave him a sideways grin.

"I'm not lying. Where do you think Alan's scythe has gone off to?" He paused, before adding, "Hurts like a bitch."

"Can't hurt more than what normally goes up there." Again, Ronald spoke without thinking of what was about to come out of his mouth. Both he and Alan turned a shade of red once his words registered, whereas Eric started chuckling and gave the blond a wink.

"You'd be surprised. Now, back to the matter at hand. We managed to get Grell in there." Ronald's eyebrows rose at that, eyes on Eric in confusion.

"How? I thought you needed the approval of at least two of the division heads?"

"You do. Apparently, though, it doesn't matter if one of them is unconscious, as long as you get the signatures from their hand." Laughter spilled from Eric's lips as Ronald looked utterly lost, and the taller blond went on to explain it. "We managed to wake one of them up for a minute or two and get him to sign the slip. As for the other one, I put the pen in his hand and forged his signature-" Eric was cut off by a loud, chilling cry of pain coming from the direction of the door. He moved towards it, Ronald and Alan behind him.

"Who screamed?" Ronald asked, seeing his friend from General Affairs stood next to the door taking down notes. She looked up, eyes hard as she motioned her hand towards the door.

"It came from in there…" She trailed off, not knowing whether to end the sentence with his name or something more formal due to them being in the middle of a crisis. She settled with 'sir.'

"The damned door's finally open!" Eric muttered, beckoning two other Shinigami to help him pry the metre-thick, heavy metal door open. "If that tight-arse is still alive, I'm making him put a handle on this thing." There was a dry chuckle from Alan before the brunette regained his posture and kept his eyes on the door, scythe at the ready to attack anything other than a living William and Grell that tried to come out the small opening that had formed. Ronald summoned his own scythe, leaning against it and absent-mindedly wondering if he'd be getting paid for this.

Ronald's nose wrinkled at the smell that wafted out and hit them in the face through the opening. It was a mixture of blood, death and demons, with the occasional –almost relieving- scent of a Shinigami. His skin crawled and, looking out the corner of his eye, he could see Alan grip his scythe tightly in an attempt to hold back a sudden heave of his stomach. Ronald had to admit, he felt like vomiting too.

Finally, after much tugging, the door opened.


	14. Sunset

**A/N**: Hey, here's the next (and last) chapter before the epilogue. Here's a quick **important** note: Please carefully read the way the Shinigami at the end of this is treat. **If** there is a sequel (which I'm still not sure on yet; less feedback has me wondering if perhaps it's time for the Problematic saga to come to an end and to start another pairing), it'll be mentioned a few chapters in and will be noteworthy. It won't be massively important, but you'd understand what the character would be talking about. (There's a poll on my page that you guys _need _to check out regarding this fic!)

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><p>Grell flinched.<p>

He'd expected pain. He had expected to see his cinematic roll out before him as it should do, his result and punishment for foolishly forgetting that a demon had the power to change his looks. But he felt nothing. There was no pain, no blinding flash of light and a pool of blood.

There was only a silence. He had fallen for one of the quick form changes of the remaining demon. He should have guessed from the mere _purr _that came from the lips of the tacky form of William that it had taken. The eyes had been a bit too bright, the back not quite straight enough as the demon had spoken, and in his exhaustion and dizziness Grell had slowed his chainsaw down. It had been grabbed by the demon and he had been thrown against the bookcase with such a force that he wondered if _that _had knocked him unconscious. He was left at the demon's mercy.

Had he died _that _quickly? The redhead opened his eyes, head thudding to a screeching halt inside his chest as _William _stood before him, his own scythe driven through his chest as he held the redhead's chainsaw. Panicking and not thinking properly at _all_, he did the sensible thing to his half-frozen mind, and screamed.

Almost immediately the body in front of him was dropped carelessly to the floor, its holder blurred as they moved behind him to quickly clamp a hand down hard over his mouth. His screaming ceased, lost to the vault as Grell focused on who was behind him. There was no mistaking the stiff posture and awkward air around the man; it was something no demon could mimic quite so perfectly.

Eyes glancing to the dead William on the floor, Grell noticed that there wasn't any wound around the ribs, and that there weren't any glasses on the demon on the floor. The hand on his mouth was removed, and Grell stepped forward to kick the double on the floor. There was no movement, no gasp of pain; Grell almost yelped when instead his foot moved through the body. Black wispy coils of a darkness only ever associated with hell curled around his feet, tainting the colours of his boot laces a blotchy black. The body disintegrated, leaving a pool of black blood behind to fill the air with its putrid scent.

They'd done it.

The odds had been completely against William from the start, rising only slightly when Grell had managed to get into the vault to help out. And yet, somehow, against at least six demons, they'd managed to kill them all and stop hell from breaking loose inside the building.

Turning, Grell didn't give a glance to William's face as he checked the makeshift bandage he had placed around the wounds on William's side. William was gripping the bookshelf nearest to him tightly, knuckles white as Grell gingerly placed a hand over it. The blood had soaked through the cloth, and even in the dim light Grell could tell that the blood was far from the natural red that it should have been. The blood was sticky, tarring Grell's fingertips and lodging beneath his long fingernails as he moved his hand to help support William. The man immediately shrugged him off.

"I can walk myself to the door, Grell." The redhead gave an indignant huff of annoyance and then winked, searching through the dim light for the direction of the door. There was a creak, followed by a loud, metallic bang that sounded as though someone was hacking at the door in an attempt to get in. Something heavy scraped across the floor, and a tiny stream of light flowed into the room as the door was slowly opened.

Grell took a delighted step forward and then froze at the sound of something slumping to the floor behind him.

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><p>William opened his eyes slowly, a frown fixing onto his face almost immediately. Everything was blurry, ridiculously so, with hues of yellow and dark brown dotting the edges of his vision. Everything directly in front of him was a vibrant red, and the confusing mix of colours started to give him a headache. He wanted to know <em>why <em>his vision was suddenly so blurry and _bright_, when it should have been dark due to the vault.

He gave a small flinch when something scraped over his temples, and rather suddenly his vision sharpened. Someone had put his glasses on. The blur of colours was explained rather quickly; he was in the infirmary, Alan and Eric were conversing on one side of the bed, Ronald had fallen asleep leaning against another bed and the walls were a ridiculous shade of bright yellow. The red was explained by the green and yellow eyes centimetres from his and the nose that was all but pressed against his own. Grell was, to put it lightly, completely up in his face and looking at him in relief.

"Sutcliff, kindly remove your face from its close proximity to my own." His voice was unintentionally harsh, his throat dry and gritty as he spoke. Grell gave a grin, moving backwards and sitting on the side of the bed next to William's legs.

"Is that any way to treat a lady, especially one who bandaged you, cleaned you up and dressed you? Why, I even sorted out your skin after it started to rot." Grell answered, voice on the highest pitch he could possibly get it to without screaming. William narrowed his eyes, sitting up in bed and feeling rather surprised at how he was in one of his newer shirts with no traces of his blood on it.

"Why did the nurse not perform that duty?" William asked, hand moving to his side to touch the bandages that were beneath his shirt. His skin tingled, and a slight spasm of pain erupted through his side. Before him, Grell blushed as Eric laughed at the question.

"Put it this way, boss; look up the word 'possessive' in the dictionary, and you'll find a lovely portrait of Grell here."

"I was not being _possessive_, merely…" Grell trailed off, frowning and levelling his gaze with William's. "I simply wasn't going to allow that young woman to get her hands on you. Your chest is for my hands and eyes only, thank you very much!" William awkwardly cleared his throat at those words being spoken around the other Shinigami. He was about to open his mouth to reprimand Grell for likely acting prissy around the kind old nurse, before he paused as another thought crossed his mind.

"Grell, the nurse is over two thousand years old."

"Her assistant isn't."

"The assistant whom, I may add," Eric started, "was on the other side of the building tending to the injured department heads." Grell flushed a deeper shade of red at that, and he rolled his eyes.

"She could have been back at any time; I could see it behind the old woman's eyes, too. She was up to something."

"Or perhaps she was just scared of the redhead who was practically snarling at anyone who went near her patient." Eric's voice held a defiant tone to it, but Grell pressed on.

"That woman from General Affairs had absolutely no reason to go near him."

"She was visiting Ronald who, at the time, was sitting on the edge of boss' bed just like you were-"

"-_Ladies,_ calm down." William cut in, voice sarcastic as his head thumped in protest at the noise. At those words, Grell crossed his arms and gave a sigh of defeat. Eric started to laugh at the redhead, sitting back on his own chair next to an amused Alan.

At the mention of his name and the raised voices, however, Ronald's eyes flew open and he gave a jump in his chair. He yawned into the back of his hand, pushing his glasses up his face and looking at the others in the room with him.

"Who said my na- ah boss, you're awake!" Ronald sat up in his chair before he rested his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands.

"Have I missed anything important?" William asked, eyes on Alan and Ronald as they were the two most likely to tell him the truth. That, and Alan could never keep a straight face when he lied, so William know immediately if anything had happened. Ronald started to shake his head.

"Not that I know of… Oh! We caught the Shinigami that let the demon in, and he's in the… where are you going, boss?" Ronald looked alarmed as William got out of the bed rather quickly.

"Where is he?" William's tone was curt, his eyes seeking his suit jacket and finding it folded neatly at the end of the bed. He pulled it on, ignoring the repeated waves of pain at the movement. Grell stood up abruptly, moving in front of the taller man.

"No, no, you have to sit down. You could reopen those wounds, and you're grouchy enough as it is." Grell tried to push him down onto the bed, but to no avail. He was reluctant to use all his strength to force the man down in case he hurt him, and William was fully aware of it as he sidestepped Grell.

"Ronald, show me to the Shinigami or you're getting extra paperwork and unpaid overtime for a month for dereliction of duty." Ronald, hiding a frown, simply nodded and started to leave. Grell stepped in front of him again.

"Dereliction of duty? You can't charge him for that!"

"If he doesn't show me to the Shinigami as soon as possible, he breaches Code Fifteen, Section B under the Emergency-"

"-don't do it Ronald."

"But what about the_ paperwork?"_ Ronald looked torn between having to choose which one of his workers he was going to listen to. William, however, still had the advantage over Grell; Ronald still held a soft spot for him, and combined with the threat of overtime it made the blond sway his opinion towards William rather than Grell.

With a guilty look on his face, Ronald took his own jacket from the back of a chair and led William out the room.

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><p>It had all been ridiculous, when it came down to it. A rule had been broken, William had discovered, that led to the series of events that had ended up with him having to enter that vault on his own, when it contained at least three demons at the time he had entered. At the current moment, he found he was dragging a half-conscious employee down the corridors by the scruff of his neck. The employee was beaten, but only because he had attacked William and Ronald when the latter had led the former into the room where he was being held.<p>

It had started only a few days prior, when the Shinigami in question had been sent on a regular reaping around the east end of London. He'd come across a name on his list that had been familiar and, in an act of utter foolishness, had lingered longer than he should when the girl was due to die. The Shinigami had realised that the girl he was reaping was his own daughter, now eighteen, who had a contract with a demon. Grell, who had been walking alongside William with Ronald to make sure the Shinigami being dragged didn't try anything funny, gave a small gasp at that information.

"What did he do?"

"Tried to stop the girl dying. Succeeded, only the demon wanted something in return and this _idiot_ allowed it to happen instead of ambushing the demon when it arrived here. _How _no one in the front entrance realised that this man was letting a demon in is about to be investigated." William gave a particularly harsh tug as he pulled the Shinigami down the hall, taking care to make sure that he was dragged harshly over a piece of cracked and jagged wood. His ribs protested at the strength he was using to pull the man.

"What's going to happen to him?" At that, William only looked at Grell sternly. "No! He did it for his _daughter,_ Will! He was protecting his child!"

"He did it at the cost of risking hundreds of lives. If Ronald hadn't raised the alarm and came to us to warn us, I can guarantee the English throne would currently be ruled by a battle hungry Frenchman by the name of Napoleon." William answered sharply, pushing his glasses up his face with his spare hand.

"How on earth is his daughter still alive?" Ronald asked, looking at the shinigami carefully.

"The girl was only a few years old when he was killed and turned into one of us. Add his human years onto his Shinigami years, and it puts him at only twenty-eight years old."

"Ah! So that's why they grabbed me when I first arrived back!" Ronald gave a bright grin before a look from Grell reduced it. William turned to look at him from the corner of his eyes.

"Why did they get you? You're forty-nine, and Eric ordered everyone under thirty."

"'Cause I've been a Shinigami for thirty years and they must have mixed it up, but I'm not complaining." Ronald gave a shrug of his shoulders and cast his eyes towards Grell. The man looked oddly deep in thought, before it was broken with him speaking again.

"You can't kill him, William!" As he spoke, the Shinigami in question stirred, fully awake as Grell's words registered with him.

"I think you will find, Grell, that I can and I _will _kill him." William pushed open the double doors at the entrance to the building and, with more force than was strictly necessary, shoved the Shinigami outside. The man stumbled, falling forwards down the marble stairs and tumbling to the bottom of them. William made his way down after him, scythe summoned and at the ready when Grell grabbed his arm.

"What if I had had a child, and had allowed a demon into the building so that my child could live? Could you kill _me_?" Grell's voice was high, and his long nails dug into the skin on William's arm as he tried to pull him back.

"Do not be so unnecessarily dramatic, Grell." William answered, his voice sharper and harsher.

"You actually could, couldn't you!" Grell's words made William pause, and the darker haired Shinigami forced himself to think and not reprimand Grell for wording his sentences wrongly. His eyes darted to Grell, narrowed in a half-veiled fury despite the calmness on his face. Ronald stood quietly at the top of the steps, watching the scene before him with his arms crossed as he leaned on the railing.

And then, to both Grell and Ronald's surprise, William sent his scythe away and knelt down next to the injured, guilty Shinigami. In one swift movement he had taken the glasses from the man's face and snapped them into two and then four pieces. Twisting the pieces in his hands beyond repair, William threw the glasses into the bushes on either side of the railings and turned to leave. He stalked past Grell and Ronald, pausing at the top of the steps to look at them.

"You're both doing the paperwork needed to be filled out for this one not being killed on the spot." With a final turn on his heels, William was gone from their sight as he entered the building. Grell gave a dramatic whistle, turning to look at the Shinigami on the floor.

"I think you'd better get going to Antarctica before he changes his mind." Grell gave him a small salute and turned to leave, the ex-shinigami on the floor shouting a grateful 'thanks' after the redhead before he darted away. Ronald unfolded his arms and looked at Grell curiously.

"What's in Antarctica?"

"I'm not sure; I know it's the first place resigned and disgraced Shinigami go once they've left active service." Grell answered with a grin, leading the way back into the building with Ronald a step behind him.

"Well, come on then Grell, we've got to get to the offices before we dragged in to clean up the mess in the vault with the other Shinigami!" Ronald had a smile on his face, finding the brighter side of the day despite the dark cloud that should have hung over them all. Grell shook his head.

"No! Think of all the paperwork he has for us!" Ronald could only chuckle as Grell moved to disappear completely, desperate to do neither cleaning nor paperwork. He shook his head, taking note of the direction in which the redhead fled, and made his own way to the offices. William would find and catch Grell, he thought with a smile. He'd probably force the redhead into the paperwork. Even though four division heads were either dead or unconscious, William would be able to keep things going smooth until the director returned the next day. Of all things, Ronald had the utmost confidence in that. Stretching his arms out in front of him, Ronald glanced outside to the setting sun and gave a smile.

It would all be fine, in the end.


	15. Epilogue: A Brewing Storm

**August 7****th**** 1888, 2:00am**

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><p>"It's impossible."<p>

The study was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a flickering, dying candle in the corner near the bookshelf. At the start of the conversation the candle had been fresh and new; now it was only minutes away from dying out completely. William was sitting at his wooden desk, enveloped in nearly complete darkness as the shadow of the man sitting on the desk in front of him hid the candle from his view. Nonetheless, William had read the document before him as was instructed, and completely refused to believe the contents. He stood up, moving away from his desk and over towards the bookcase in the far corner of the room.

"Unfortunately, Spears, it's true. You need to revoke his scythe as soon as you can."

"Sir, I am fully certain that there has been a mistake." William didn't turn as he spoke, and instead watched the shadows flicker on the bookcase as he straightened the books. The books on the shelf below were clean and worn; the books just at his eye level were covered in a light layer of dust. It was proof of a difference in height between himself and the vibrant redhead who occupied the house with him; the clean and worn books were frequently read by Grell, and all the other books on every other shelf in the room were dusty due to neglect from himself and the redhead.

Turning on his heel, William took a moment to observe the room fully as he thought about the current situation. The house had been given to him as a result of the demon incident eight years ago. It was only a small house in comparison to the houses of the other division heads, but it was bigger than the two up two down home that they'd had previously. The fact that Grell had moved with him had only confirmed the rumours and suspicions of the Director and other co-workers, but eight years had gone by with no trouble. Granted, no one had yet found out that the room that was supposed to be Grell's was bare of any furnishings. It had been a three bedroom house; one bedroom had been turned into the study/library that they were currently in, one was empty and the other was their own.

The walls of the study were adorned with bookcases, there were two dark settees surrounding a coffee table, and William's desk sat in the furthest corner of the room next to the tall, singular window. William moved back to his desk, flipping through the file that had been placed down onto it with a stern look on his face.

"Look through that file as many times as you want, Spears; the content won't change."

"If you knew about this, why did you not act earlier?" The question gave the senior Shinigami standing before him pause; the blond haired man wondered whether he should divulge the information to the man or not. On one hand, he was a senior member of the London division and could be trusted with almost everything; on the other, there were hints that he was in a relationship with the redhead they were discussing, and the man had a reputation for being able to worm anything out of anyone, even William Spears.

"A test. We had reason to believe that he was… defecting. We want to make sure that we're not about to have a criminal inquiry on our hands. At what time do you usually make him come home?" The Shinigami asked, to which his first response from William was a well aimed, filthy look of disgust.

"I do not chain him like a dog and only let him free to wander for a set amount of time." William answered curtly, looking to the edge of his desk where two glasses of whiskey were resting, untouched by the both of them and poured out only out of courtesy. There was a smirk from his senior.

"I will rephrase; at what time does your… _friend_ come home?"

"Eleven"

"Is he always home every night?" The man asked, prompting him to get a suspicious look from William.

"Without fail." Another smirk was passed William's way from the blond man, and William stepped around his desk to look out the tall window.

"Well then, Mr. Spears, could you please tell me the current time?" At the question, William became thankful that he was looking out the window into the dark night, for he couldn't suppress the look of annoyance on his face, or the gritting of his back teeth.

"It is ten past two in the morning, _sir_." He all but spat the word out bitterly, blinking when the room was lit up with a flash of lightning. It seemed to foreshadow the events that the Shinigami in the room with him was describing. Thunder rolled in, shaking the air with the rumbling sound and filling the silence that had descended on the two.

"Then it is as I have told you, as that _file _told you. You cannot change the facts, Spears. He has less than five minutes to get here, else he's under immediate suspicion." William gave an undetectable nod, clasping his hands behind his back and turning his head slightly to look at the Shinigami.

"And just how do you know it will be him, exactly?"

"We can see the next month of a human's life; that is how we find out who is to die and who will live another month. Do not think that the process is only limited to Humans." There was a tone of harshness in the voice, signifying that William could not, and should not, ask any more question's regarding the how and the why of the most intricate of Shinigami dealings.

"Does the human know?"

"If all is how the files say it is, then he will intercept her in half an hour."

William didn't give the man an answer, merely kept his gaze outside to the brewing storm. A wind was picking up, forks of lightning striking trees and hard earth as thunder filled in the silence for the two men. It started to rain; only a drizzle, but something William knew would send the redhead flying for a shelter to protect his hair. Five minutes passed in silence with no sign of Grell in the street below or the house itself. Out of the corner of his eye William could see a wide smirk grace the face of the Shinigami behind him.

"Well, Spears, you'd best hope your redhead turns up at the office tomorrow with a good explanation, else you may find yourself in a rather difficult situation and one Shinigami short." With a sweep of a coat and the clicking of a door, the man was gone. William raised an eyebrow, reaching across his desk for one of the glasses of whiskey.

He downed the small glass as the candle died out, and the room was enclosed in darkness once more.

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><p><strong>August 7th 1888, 2:37am<strong>

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><p>He ran as fast as was physically possible, his watch ticking loudly and ringing out the seconds left before he was to reap the latest human. The woman was yet <em>another <em>murder victim; he'd had a lot of them lately, especially in this district of London. And to make matters worse, they were at the most inconvenient times possible. The one he was currently following, the murder of Martha Tabram, had changed from the time and place repeatedly. Apparently, either the murderer was very bad at tracking the woman down and getting her alone, or the murderer was hesitating. Grell couldn't be certain, but his ledger showed only seconds before the death was to happen, and he had to get to the scene quick. He hopped up to the top of a church tower, hanging onto the cross tightly and looking down to the alley below.

He waited only half a second before his attention was drawn to a woman clad in red from head to toe. She was moving quietly, the only sound coming from her being the clicking of her heels on the cobbled floor. She was dressed elegantly, and for a moment Grell felt a pang of sadness that a woman so beautiful was to be the next murder victim. He kind of liked her style.

That thought changed completely when a knife slipped from under the sleeve of her dress, sharp and glinting in the moonlight. Grell watched her with widened eyes, a grin on his face as he realised that _she _was the murderer, and not the victim. But if that was the case, then where was Martha Tabram?

Grell's answer came in the form of a loud couple walking down from the other end of the alley. Grell hopped up to sit on the top of the cross as the woman in red hid into the shadows, the only hint of her being the slight outline of her shape in the shadows. Only Grell, with his sharper eyesight, could spot her, and only then because he knew she was there in the first place. The man who had followed the other woman left, leaving only the two women in the alley towards the dead end. He held back a giggle, watching the one-sided conversation as the woman in red made her move.

It was utterly brutal.

Grell loved it; he couldn't tear his eyes away as the woman stabbed her victim repeatedly. She was more violent than ever; Grell couldn't remember the last victims being stabbed more than twice, and the worst that had ever happened to the previous ones was the lack of a uterus. The woman in red was stabbing viciously, much more frenzied than ever as she carefully but quickly cut out the uterus. She was muttering under her breath, her words violent and breathing jagged. This was more than just a cold blooded murder to the woman, as it gave off the vibe of revenge. The sky was clear, all traces of the storm that had battered the London streets having completely disappeared.

Grell stood up, hanging from the cross on the spiral tower and looking down with a grin. He would talk to her; she intrigued him greatly. Pushing his hair from his eyes, Grell clutched his ledger tightly, straightened his tie and got ready to break the rules of the Shinigami, consequences be damned.

"Oh… my, _my_. You've done such a glamorous job!"

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><p><strong>AN**: This note may seem a little jaggedly quick, 'cause I've got the Jack the Ripper page up on the internet and, with the photo of Mary Kelly on it, to be frank it's creeping me _right _out. So, in the Kuroshitsuji manga, none of Madam Red's first victims were classed as Jack the Ripper victims because only the Undertaker could tell that the Uterus' had been taken out. So, assuming that they actually only get more violent _because _of Grell's appearance, then his first crime with her is the first canonical Ripper victim. _But_, Martha Tabram was a suspected Ripper Victim but not canonical because although she was stabbed many times, it wasn't as brutal as the canonical ones. I'm taking this to mean that the woman the Madam is murdering before she is interrupted is Martha Tabram. I ended it like this because although I'm still not sure on a sequel or not, this type of ending doesn't need one, as we all know what happens next regarding Madam Red and Grell. You'll find out soon enough if you have me on Author Alert whether I chose a sequel or another story/fandom. Anywho, hope you all enjoyed the Boundaries story!


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